Forces and Facets


This morning’s meditation or what I could call…what a gal and Death can do in 30 minutes:

With little or no ceremony I was swooshed down the rabbit hole and plopped into Helheim.

Hela was there, waivering between a skeleton and a more fleshy form.  She put Her hand on the small of my back and led me through a gate that brought us to an area all deep black with random flecks of light here and there.  It was very heavy in there, thick like a humid day in the middle of summer but more so…somewhere between air and water really, but I could float a bit. I had the sensation I often feel in Her presence, that I could blissfully slip away…all the bits and pieces of me could just melt inside of Her.

She seemed bothered, concerned that perhaps I shouldn’t be all bound up in her. I’m not cerain why, but she has expressed this in the past as well. She explained that there was still time to turn back, the bonds could fall away and I could be whatever it is she thinks I might otherwise be without her. I told her that I thought I was already well past that point of now return and she said, the bonds to Her were “tight, but still slight.” I could still turn away and serve Another.


We sat on the edge of a of a cliff, our feet dangling over the edge like kids. Below us, it looked la bit like this:

She explained to me that she was an aspect of death – that there are Gods and Goddesses and then there are Forces. Death is a Force, She is a facet.

Then I was falling from the edge, oddly enough I wasn’t overly concerned. I landed on a lava free area and quickly made my way in a cave that was tunnel shaped. In the tunnel was a rather ordinary looking man, standing there like we had agreed to meet there and I was running late. He was dressed  in every day clothing, but resembled this actor:

He took my face in his hand, sort of a basketball hold. I felt like I was being rifled through, examined. I wasn’t certain if this was the way people greet eachother here so I did the same to Him. I saw lush landscapes turn from this:

To this:

I witnessed people in fine clothing celebrating and suddenly they turned to dust. I felt a final breath as it transformed into the sharp in take of a first breath.

He laughed, said most people don’t do that to Him. He welcomed me to His realm and then in a turn of the head I was walking down a suburban street, carbon copy houses as far as the eye could see. I entered one and He sat in the family room, in a leather arm chair. I knelt before Him. Not in words but just as expressive I understood there are Forces in the everything…love…hate…chaos, and of course there was Death.


He “went” on…”I bind myself to Hela I bind myself to Him, it was that simple. By virtue of serving Hela, I served Death. Now this doesn’t mean I become all grims – quite the opposite, those in service to Death tend to live out loud…they learn about both sides of the coin…no end really, just edges between realms. But, I must choose and know the price I’ll pay”. He showed me what Hela longed for, a warior, a servant, a watcher…

I must understand my bond with the dead would deepen…there would be so much more work so much more devotion to give.

I was curious why it was that Hela would offer Her throat or wrist or breast to me…He said it was to draw me deeper,to fill me or whom ever was offered such a thing…with an essence as a foundation of sorts and a ladder to grow upon…He then proffered His wrist…I pounced and drank like a hungry kitten.


I was flooded with images and encounters, I met up with pets from long ago, my nana and grand dad. Then I was in an Edwardian town with a friend from long ago and apparently far away. her anme was Alfreda and we had been apart for some time. She wasn’t dead just elsewhere all this time. I offred Him my wrist and He drank deep as well. I don’t know what He saw or felt.

All at once I was with Hela, she held me close.

As usual I fully awoke form this feeling nauseated and exhausted.


Upon a Misty Morn


It has been difficult these last few weeks to meditate, to find my way to Helheim.  I’m not even certain as to why really, things are no better or worse than usual…no more strained or relaxed than I’m accustomed to…but, this morning more than made up for that. I was troubled this morning and began the steps to reach a deep meditative state and Bam! I was there, kneeling before Hela in all her skeletal glory. I’m not usually one for bullet points, but so much happened it’s about all I can do to keep it straight.

~ I’ve been the one standing in my way to Helheim. I can’t lose sight that it is my home.  I’m a visitor in Midgard, but this is where I’m in my element so to speak.

~  I’ve been rather poor with my altar to Her and my offerings, apparently I need to step that up a notch or seven. I also was repremanded that just because I find it difficult to medidate or that spirit workings are inconvienent, doesn’t mean I don’t need to do them…every day.

~  I finally met face to face with Thor and was shown the Rune Peord by Him. Roughly speaking, He’s claimed my sexuality in Midgard. Not that I’m having relations with him, but that I need to work on being more comfortable in more fleshy matters. I suppose that is a drawback to being sworn to the Norse Goddess of Death. I’m not even going to explain what he wants from me, makes me blush just thinking about it.

~  A child of mine from another time and place is in Helheim and I got to see him again..Rory, short for Rorik…moppy goldenbrown hair, dancing green eyes, it was so good to see my sweet baby…what a gift.

~ Thor jokingly called Himslef my ‘Da” and boy did that peeve off Hela…He told me He was grateful that people like me weren’t made in the old fashioned way…it was more like making a cake..little bit of this, little bit of that…

~  Hela wasn’t mincing words this morning and basically gave me the ‘come to Hela talk’ and claimed me as Hers…as her slave, her sworn and kept (boy is that difficult to type…not what I expected at all)…slave is such a broad and weird term though…its correct and yet not correct.

~  Thor was huge, with bright red hair and a matching beard…merry green blue eyes, that looked like they could flash to anger in no time flat…he had a bit of an Irish lilt to his voice and referred to my ex-husband as a man with the balls of a pigeon…

~  He also said the one Loki spoke of as on his way is going to be as ugly as dirt, but will be more than I could hope for.

All I can say at this point, is boy do I have a lot to think about and come to grips with…and that I’m deeply blessed…beyond mere words.

Oh- Possum My Possum


Oppossums have been all about my life these days; some seen who have passed to Helheim, some watched eagerly as they amble down the yard and into the night, and even miraculously a rare chance to snuggle and pet one.

Perhaps this is more than a coincidence, perhaps a sign from Hela…to watch, to heed, to learn. And so I take notice.

Cunning possum,
Trickster changeling,
So alive, yet seeming dead,
Teach me wise old possum magic
That reacts from instinct, not from head.
Show me the way to slip past danger.
Fill me with earthy wisdom great,
That I might be secure and happy
Living life and trusting fate.


Opossum medicine requires a great deal of strategy.
Although a opossum has teeth and claws, it rarely uses them, preferring the strategy of diversion to save itself. It plays dead until the attacker loses interest and then bolts for safety.
The Opossum teaches us to use our brains rather than our brawn.
The number 13 is very symbolic for Opossum people.
When an Opossum shows up as a totem, check appearances.
Are there people around you putting up false appearances?
Is your attention being diverted?

From: Animal Totems

The Opossum

The opossum is a crafty animal that shows us how to play different roles. It knows when to act, when to hide, and when to show its true colors. Opossum is a master at recognizing truth as well as falsehood. When it wants attention it gets it. When it wants to be left alone it plays dead. It is a strategic animal that knows how to mold each situation according to its needs. It has the ability to decode hidden messages and read between the lines.

A supreme actor, the opossum can be aggressive or submissive depending on the situation. The opossum knows that each situation has commonalties as well as differences and reflects on them carefully before it responds. This links the opossum to the energies of practicality and ingenuity.

Always full of surprises and unpredictable opossums are masters at playing dead. When the time is right they can suddenly spring back to life. Playing dead is a self induced state in which the heartbeat actually slows and the pulse becomes minimal. This ability serves to confuse many predators giving the opossum an escape from life threatening situations.

Opossums are nocturnal and raise their young in a pouch on their mid section. The young are born blind and rely on their feelings to guide them to their destination. They learn to sense their way around at an early age developing strong instincts by the time they reach adulthood. These instincts are complimented by their inherent ability to disguise themselves. The opossum is a multi-faceted actor that continually changes its appearance. It does not allow its emotions to consume its actions and partakes in the game of life with strategic maneuvers. Part of what the opossum teaches to those with this totem is emotional and mental stability.

The opossum is a craftsman in the art of appearances. When it appears in your life it is telling you to wake up and pay attention. Things are not what they seem to be. By observing your actions, reactions, thoughts and feelings, deeper insights emerge. This emergence leads to self-empowerment. Congratulations and welcome home!

From: Pagan Mysteries Forum, Lady Anastasia

So, that’s A No on sTori Telling in the Bath?


The Plan: Read a chapter of Tori Spelling’s first book on my Nook in the bath and then a meditation. I had pulled “Goddess Alive! Inviting Celtic and Norses Goddesses Into Your Life by Michelle Skye off the shelf and was going to choose an exercise from there.

What Actually Happened: Apparently after charging all night, my Nook was so so low on batteries it couldn’t be turned on. So, nix reading Tori Spelling’s book. I took that as a sign it was time for some spirit working. (I do so hope I’m using the term correctly…basically I mean a journey about the other side, my spirit coming in contact with whomever I should be) As I reached for the book all I could think of was Freyja, so it was no surprise when I flipped the pages of the book and they opened to her chapter.

I read over the meditation excercise and decided it was not the one I should be doing at this time, it was a very sexual one. Not that I found it offensive, but it was simply not the place or time to let loose my unbridled sexuality. Save that for another day. I did however find it interesting, coming right on the heel of all the neuter/celibate talk.

Instead I calmed myself, entering into a meditative state and found myself in the most beautiful of places. I was on a tall hill, looking over a lush expanse; tall grasses waving in the breeze like an earthy ocean, wildflowers carpeting about, and sun so warm and true. Beside me was a woman, most beautiful and just as lush as the countryside. I knew it was Freyja. I bowed in greeting, only noticing then how I was dressed. I stuck out like a sore thumb really; grey trousers with the dust of Helheim still clinging about, my worn and loved boots no longer black…just a shade of dark.  A leather chest plate worse for the wear and a sword at my hip.  I could see myself as she saw me for just a moment; my hair shorn, features plain, small in stature and looking as if I just rolled through a dust bin.

“Are you certain? Do you understand what you’re giving up? The sacrifice you make for her?”  She searched my face, looking for some sign of regret perhaps, I’m not certain. I did get the distinct feeling that she was doing what she felt was right, that in her way she was looking out for me.

“You realize the after life can be your playground? Letting free only what you could imagine in Midgrad?” Her smile was dangerous, her voice husky.

I recognized she was offering me a choice, perhaps not to serve Her or be amongst her chosen, but I could choose to have a “normal” afterlife one which apparently included oodles of sexual trysts and the like. But, I felt no desire to accept her offering or even a tiny desire to walk away from my Lady. I know that I would never truly be free of Hela, she created me…from piles of  and snippets of stars and what nots she fashioned me, I am Hers and would want it no other way. I am not Her spouse, not Her slave. I would greatly like a vocabulary word for what we share, all I know for certain is that I am Hers…lock, stock, and barrel. And although the sweeping green hillocks before me were lovely beyond comapre, I longed for Heilheim and its howling wind, for the scent of yesterday in the air…I longed for home, even in the company of such beauty.

“What if she demands your celibacy in Midgard, in the realm of man you would be alone. What then?” She pressed on, making certain I knew what was at hand.

“If She demands it, so it shall be.” It was all  I could think to say.

“Then a gift.” She reached forward and looked as if she would touch me, I backed away. I knew somehow it would offend Hela. Freyja shook her head and produced a Rune stone made of sapphire, on it Mannaz (“The Rune of Man, the Ego and Humanity”). She then held out a vial filled with a shimmering golden liquid which was attached to a cord.

“If my Mistress allows it, I shall keep these gifts. If not, I shall do what She bades me to do with them.” I tucked them in a pouch that hung from my belt.

“And what of, him?” she echoes as I feel myself being drawn away.

I am at the foot of Hela’s throne, bowed on one knee. She runs a hand through my hair and asks me many of the same questions Feyja had. She then asks about him, the one who I’ve seen in dreams, in past life regressions…alhtough he’s not always a a ‘he’. Would I hate Her if I was to deny myself even him in my service to Her?

My longing is the service I render Her, to be close to Her, that is my wish and express such to Her…She is my home. I add, that she who made me allowed the bond I have with that soul and so there is nothing I can or can’t do. I accept only that my heart loves one I’ve not met in this life, but always She is first.

I offer Her the gifts from Freyja. “Study the Rune, but not too well my child.” She says with an oddly playful wink. As to the charm , give it to another.”

We are in my cavern, She knows I crave the nearness of Her and so sits on the side as I plunge in…I don’t understand how this other worldly brownie like mixture connects me to her, how it envelops me and for a time there is no “me” , just a vast sense of connectedness to Her. Without warning She yanks me up and warns me of Her brothers, her father…”They’ll be around shortly…They’ll want to know you…They can be overwhelming.”

All at once I am on a beach, the necklace in my hand and a deep longing to return to Her. I notice a woman near by, she sits still as a stone before a raging fire. She’s in pain, so much pain…so deep she can no longer cry out for mercy. I slip the cord about her , letting the charm fall to rest upon her chest. Her hair is short and shocking red, her features pale and rounded…the face of someone who should smile often, if it weren’t for the pain.

I caress her forehead and whisper, “Hold tight Honey Bee”*

A chuckle from behind and I straighten, there is a man…well a male God is more like it…clad in black armor and fire for hair. It’s Loki, my Beloved’s father. “A gift for my wife?” He says with a good natured snicker.  His eyes are wild with only He knows what, one purple, one green.

“You’re good to my daugher. You’re loyal too.That deserves something, a gesture.” He pulls me close in an embrace, He smells of cinnamon and the night, tornados and cookies, like a whirlwind…He whispers throatily, “He’s coming.”

He backs away, walking backwards towards the ocean…”Get ready Peaches, he’s coming…” and laughs…deep, husky, wild, and timeless.

I see Freyja, eyes round with surprise, “Fuck.”

I see Hella, sitting upon Her throne, hand to forehead, “Fuck.”

I’m alone on the beach and think of the Tarot reading, the woman telling me that He wasn’t going to be in this realm this time around…

…lauhgter on the wind, “Like that could stop me…” and then I sputter to full wakedness and am sitting in the tub, water cold…


*I’m not acquainted with anyone by the name or nick name of Honey Bee, so am clueless to who this might be.

Neither and Yet All



Neuter, its not a word that rolls from the tongue easily. It’s a latin adjective meaning neither. Of course there are the definitions that pack a wallop; ‘sexless’ or “giving no indication of sex” or “not having or involving sex”. It’s also a word that Hela/followers/guardians/charges uses often in our ‘conversations’, when She or one of Her followers/guardians/charges is discussing with me the future of well, me in Helheim.  My duty to Her shall be just that, to Her.  I read somewhere that Hela is not a Goddess fond of areas and shades of grey; a creature of light and dark, black and white…boy, is that the truth.

The celibacy of this role, the act of service is not a choice, but rather a requisite. There is a certain part of me that wishes to fight this, to push away (as if I could push away from Her) , that is scared of the enormity of it all. Me??? Serve Who?!?!? Why? How? Am I simply crazy and imagining all this? Although to the later question, I dare say if I were left to my imaginings I would far more choose the Gods wishing me to have a wild frolic with Johnny Depp in his Jack Sparrow outfit than spend a large chunk of eternity as a celibate warrioress guarding a gate of Helheim.

And yet, my soul finds peaceful and joyous repose when my thoughts come to rest on serving Her, on spending that chunk of eternity keeping Her realm and charges safe.  Its something I’ve always known, but didn’t know how to put into words.

Spring Chakra Cleaning


I’ve had chakras on the brain as of late, I think I knew without being told, that my chakras were all out of whack.  They were dirty and tired, small and not working well at all. The last few years have taken a toll on me and my spirit; but it’s a new leaf thats turning.  With Hela’s claiming I must strive to be the most, the best that I can in this realm and others. I purchased, “Chakra Clearing” by Doreen Virtue, Ph.D. and  “Your Seven Energy Centers” by Elizabeth Clare Prophet and Patricia R. Spadaro and have found both books to be helpful.  Of course Hela has had Her say in all this as well…

I stand in my cavern chamber and frankly looking like a rainbow Borg; my chakras are small and dark, barely moving about and hundreds of different colored cords are attached to me and go out in all directions.  Not so much in words, Hela explains to me tthese cords must be cut, they serve only to harm me. But, that I must be willing to let them go, to forgive those that are on the other ends.  (Doreen Virtue refers to these as etheric cords and says “fear within our relationships form these cords”.)  This was no easy task, but I concentrated on Her and knowing that it is She that I serve, these cords and fears served Her naught. With that, they were gone.  I was free.

Hela cleared the darkness from my chakras, fed them energy so they might thrive.  She was kind and stern, concerned and loving…she waved her hand across my heart and a green glowing Tiwaz appears, then at my throat  a fiery blue Othila, and lastly upon my forehead, my third eye, Eihwaz is glowing indigo…”My child you are marked and marked well, my seals upon you in all realms. You are mine and grow only more so as moon phases to moon.”