Feeding the Gods

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Usually I don’t comment on internet arguments because I don’t feel what I have to add works one way or the other. But there’s some heated back and forth on the subject of animal sacrifice/blood sacrifice/place of sacrifice in reconstruction in general going on and I thought I might weigh in on how my beliefs have grown and changed since I began practicing Paganism.

There’s the viewpoint in the thread that goes- Why would an animal want to be sacrificed and who are you to use its death to worship a deity? I used to be of this camp myself. I was all tied up on Harm None and for a while, was a self-righteous vegetarian due to health issues. Well, vegetarian due to health-issues, self-righteous because I was annoying. The idea of killing an animal was abhorrent to me because I had not yet read and learned that one of the goals of the person sacrificing the animal was to be as quick and humane as possible and because I personally knew a girl in the past who stole and sacrificed kittens and other household pets… before she was incarcerated, that is. I also had a hang-up with Death itself due to my extremely unhealthy upbringing. I had a lot of issues and I did not understand what was really meant by undertaking this act. I was vehemently against it because I bought into the horror-show view of animal sacrifice my small town past endowed me with.

All I can really say on the issue is- It makes sense to me now. I know, that isn’t really a basis for a blog post and it isn’t deep and interesting or full of insight. But I can understand and (as if it makes any difference at all) agree with why people are moved to sacrifice to their gods and then to share that food with others as well as the deities. I suppose if I’m saying anything at all, I’m saying that it’s possible for the most closed-minded ninny to change because, well, here I am.

On the subject of sacrifice and feeding the gods, I can speak a little more freely on my own practices. When Èlada first made His larger presence known in my life I asked Him- Lord, what can I offer to You? He didn’t seem to want much and none of those things were food, incense, or blood. Motivated partly by reading others’ accounts of their own worship, I straight up asked Him, “What about my blood?” It was then that Èlada gave me explicitly to understand that, in no uncertain terms, that I was. not. to. offer. my. blood. to. Him. He was stern and I could almost see a finger wagging at me. So, what did I do when Virgil landed in the hospital for the third time, as sick as could be? Yeah, I totally disregarded Èlada’s wishes and offered my blood. And we had a row. My, did we have a row. He understood why I did it but, shit woman, I told you not to do it, that I did not want that from you, don’t you ever do that again. If I want blood from you, I will tell you plainly.

As for feeding the gods, that’s a practice I took up at Èlada’s urging some months ago. It began with Him but it has since expanded to include Tethra and Indech as well. On Mondays, I clean the house, purify and seal it spiritually, and then I make oatcakes, which I turn around and offer. It doesn’t count if I don’t have one, so I guess They enjoy sharing food too. Then there are the flesh offerings- That is, if I cook meat, a few times a week, I offer meat from my own plate and eat less. I don’t take extra and on our limited food budget, it’s not like there’s extra to take. These offerings seem to be better accepted than cooking an extra piece of something that I set aside only for Them. I once had a practice in the past of feeding the gods before I met Èlada and the Others but looking back on it, it was nowhere near as well-received as my current practice. I also offer lights, coffee or tea, depending on Who is being honored, and incense on the days I have set aside for each deity. I am considering switching to handmade olive oil or tallow lamps because it has come to seem to me that the candles I currently use are starting to be less well received.

I think for me, it is only natural that I would sacrifice to or go out of my way to feed Those I worship. It fosters a closeness that I can say that we did not have when I was simply praying or even dedicating time and work to Them.

The Trickster and Me

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I’ve been undergoing lots of changes, which explains some of my silence, I suppose. The biggest of these changes has been incorporating Indech mac De Domnan into my circle and devotions. I thought long and hard about whether I’d be able to serve Him- Firstly because, crap, who knows much about Him in the first place? And secondly, He was tapping the light fantastic on all of my issues.

Lord Indech is a Trickster god and He’s been peeping around corners at me since autumn of last year. When He wasn’t peeping or nudging, He was impersonating other deities in the Fomorian pantheon to get my attention. He’s wild, manic, and very talkative and wanted a space in my devotions for Himself. Shaming as it may be to admit, I did not want to let Him in. I was wary. This was due to a combination of things- a warning from Èlada at the end of last year that I then lacked the skillset and stability to deal with Indech and the whole impersonating other gods bit. But when I say “impersonating other gods” what I mean by that is yes, taking their forms and mannerisms but then also leaving something so glaringly obvious or shoddy about His impersonation as to give me a clue… After the first one. The first one left me going “Whaaa?” before Tethra, Who I was visiting at the time, sort of went “No,” with an almost paternal sigh, and unmasked Him, Tethra being the deity most concerned with the bailiwick we were in at the time and therefore the superior.

Now I don’t know Loki personally but I would imagine that He and Indech have quite a lot in common. Indech likes to tell secrets- doesn’t matter whose- and very much concerns Himself with keeping things moving, and doesn’t mind scaring the shit out of people or pissing them off to get it done so long as they hie away from Him in the right direction.

Over the past couple of weeks, we’ve been having conversations as I try to suss out things like what to offer Him, what day might be best, spheres He concerns Himself with, and so forth. One day he confided in me that his power color is Grey, which I found rather odd. Surely blae, Lord Indech? I remember asking, since I’ve found it to be a pretty common color between Those I serve. Nope. Grey, grey, and only grey. Which is important, given the following incident:

A few days ago, I ran into my 95-year-old Great Aunt at the post office. The court-house had sent her a tax document meant for our town treasurer and she was waiting for him there. I had not seen her for some time because MNM threw me out of the family last year, so I did not feel comfortable going around my relations any more. But I like my aunt and she invited me to walk with her back to her house and to sit down to visit. We had a nice visit and she let me tell her some of the things MNM has put through herself over this last year as well as during my lifetime. The strangest thing was- She didn’t judge me. She was concerned about me and asked questions, didn’t interrupt. I daresay that was the first time I had ever had such loving regard from any woman in my family. My aunt then took me out on her porch and reached into her Bible and pulled out an 80-something year old program from her grade school commencement and told me she wanted me to have it as it had my grandfather in it too. We went back into her living room, sat down, and had the following conversation:

“Do you read a lot?” she asked.
“Oh yes, very much.”
“I have lots of books you can borrow. I have boxes and boxes upstairs and you’re welcome to take any you like.” She leaned forward in her chair. “Your cousin Sophie got me some books off the internet. Maybe you’ve heard of them- Fifty Shades of Gray. Why, they cost $56 but she said I had to have them. You know, I’ve never read anything like them. Every time I finished a chapter, I thought to myself- ‘Boy, I might get in trouble for reading these’. But I finished them. I think I would have done that man in before the first book was over. Or called the police. When Doris brings them back, I think you should read them. Then you could tell me if you think they are as racy as I do.”
I laughed until I cried. And then I laughed some more.

My 95-year-old great-aunt has read horrible smut books and wants me to borrow them. 50 Shades of Gray. What a gas!

“You’re welcome,” said the Trickster.

I think I’m a bit more of a fan of His than I thought I could be.

Random Word-Spew

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Sprung - by tvvoodoo @ sxc.hu

Sprung – by tvvoodoo @ sxc.hu

With spring so close I’ve been thinking about Ethnea/Feada and being freed from the tower by Cian. I’ve begun wondering if maybe the ban drui or faery woman (Biróg) was actually Feada in a different form securing her own freedom by means of an Earth/Sky marriage. I hold that the liberation of Feada from the “crystal” tower is actually the spring thaw and the birth of Lugh, the new year. I gather that there is precedence for this sort of wondering as sometimes the goddess Brigid is linked with the spring and she is portrayed as trapped by the Caillach. I seem to remember reading one of the older tales of the coming of the Men of Dea to Ireland in which Brigid was depicted as a tall woman, half young, half ancient crone, half fair, half foul with a pillar of flame sprouting from her head or forehead. I should find that source again. It was an interesting read.

Lately here I’ve been feeling like a fresh-baked pie set on a cottage windowsill in a busy village in regards to gods. I feel like god-bait. In the past two weeks I get one insisting on being included more in my work, namely Indech mac Dé Domnann, his mother, Domnu, and have met Ruadh Rofessa, the Daghda, at long last. I say at long last because some genealogies name him as Élada’s son and it seems that I have no choice but to meet the whole family at some point. I’m not complaining, mind, but I’ve made the acquaintance of many deities over the past year and my head is beginning to feel like Grand Central Station or at least a very busy pub or an enormous family reunion. Currently, when I’m not researching Narcissistic Personality Disorder, I’m either trying to make heads or tails of Indech and his, uh, god-job(s), or writing devotional poetry per R.R. I mean in addition to my mundane chores like cat boxes and round of devotional and sundry magickal practices.

Finally, after a small amount of prodding by various and sundry sources, I joined a class on Cousura called Know Thyself which does indeed spring from the Oracle at Delphi’s precepts. I decided to join it as both a spiritual undertaking as well as part of my continuing journey to heal from all that wonderful narcissistic and emotional abuse in my past. It might surprise people to hear that many victims of narc abuse have even less of a clue about who they are and even their likes and dislikes than the normal person due to constant projection and sometimes the engulfing of an N parent. No really. After seeing for myself that some bits of myself were projected or written into me by the Nmonster, I decided that hey, let’s purge this shit, this false self, and find out what I’m actually like/what I like/what I, myself really think.

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In the time of the year when the skies hang low like wool of lead,
I dreamt the clouds were vanquished by the Moon in his wanderings.
White light like a cloak- warmth for shoulders in the chill of night,
light like a spear glinting in the thick of battle,
a shield over the heads of the weak,
a pathway through the deep still wood,
a mirror of true-seeing,
a pool of clear water,
a scattering of coins, largesse of kings,
light like a fillet ‘cross the forehead of a seer,
the torch of the scholar shedding light across his tomes
shone forth, transforming all it touched.
Illuminating,
dazzling,
lifting the pall from my heart so that I rushed gladdened
to pen a poem of praise
to the Bright One.

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