I had a dream last night about the death of my mother.*

I wasn’t sad…but it was after the funeral, and this older woman approached me to ask what I had been working on this past year.

Her face was lined and solemn – I didn’t recognize her as anyone I’d ever met before, even though there seemed something about her that was vaguely familiar.

I didn’t know why she was there.  My mother didn’t have too many friends.

And yet, this older woman was giving me this incredibly powerful vibe, and so, inwardly, I was trying to think of who she might have been.

She seemed to know my mother, but I got the impression that she may have known my mother long before she’d had children, as she asked me the names and ages of my siblings and what my father’s name had been.

It occurred to me that she had – perhaps – been a childhood friend or a high school friend, and maybe they had lost touch?

I don’t know why it had become so important to me to pinpoint who she was, but it was.

It was quite a puzzle.

As for her work question, I thoughtlessly blurted out that I had been working on seidhr.

While this was essentially true, I still felt uncomfortable as I launched into an explanation of seidhr.

But much to my surprise, the woman shushed me…and with glittering eyes full of mischief, informed me that she knew what seidhr was; there was no need for me to explain.

And then she asked me why I had stopped writing, and again, I was taken aback, as again, I didn’t know how to respond.

I wanted to disagree with her – of course, I hadn’t stopped writing.  Why was she asking me that?

Somehow this question offended me, and I felt irritation rising up inside me.

Unruffled, she continued, Why are you so irritable?  After all, it is your birthright.

And suddenly it occurred to me that the last 8 months have passed very quickly – more swiftly than I ever could have imagined – and yet, how much things have changed in my practice.  There was so much that I had stopped being afraid of doing and talking about – and yet the answer that the Universe has provided seems to be that my most important jobs involve concepts that I cannot speak of, let alone write posts about.

And yet, it would seem that I have reached another roadblock.

You know how it has been said, how you know that you are on the right path when suddenly things seamlessly fall into place, and situations develop/progress so quickly that one can’t seem to keep up with the change?

Well, while things definitely seem to be on that level of progression, when I stop and think about it, everything seems to have hinged upon that Arizona ritual somehow.

But honestly, I have been having trouble writing about that ritual.

And yet, there I was being asked about the reasons why by a stranger at my mother’s funeral….and I realize that I have absolutely no excuse not to write about it.

Except that one.  That reason – which is the same old reason that always was:

I can’t rely on others to validate the work that I am doing.

The deeper I get into the work, the less I can relate the particulars of that work to others – and therefore, the less I feel that I can relate to others.

And that makes me feel very lonely at times.


*As you may recall, my mother is still alive; however we have been estranged for the past ten years.








Sinking Inside Yourself  by Hammock came up on my YouTube autoplay this morning:


(Evidently YouTube’s intuitive recommendation paradigm suggested this song to my ‘similar’ list because I have been listening to a lot of Lifehouse and Dave Matthews Band lately?)
The lyrics are almost subliminal too – I know that they are there but I cannot hear/understand them so well.
The melody is evocative of trance as well – full of dreamy, languid and flowing tones.
I almost fell into while listening to it!


Next up, YouTube suggested Let Go by Frou Frou — which features lyrics such as

 Let go let go there is beauty in the breakdown…



*Fan-made video (created by YT user, intr0naut) for the song ”Sinking Inside Yourself”, originally performed by Hammock, taken from the ”Asleep In The Downlights” EP (2011)







Utiseta and Runes.

From Alte Sitta

These are the runes this site suggests for utiseta:
First, the runes you galdr for utiseta:

Ansuz– Ansuz – the rune of Breath

Raidho– Raidho – the rune of Journey.

Then one calls upon

Uruz– Uruz – strength for the task

followed by

Othala – Othala – in this case, the rune of the enclosures that have been created; as in words signifying the physical and mental confines of the body as well as those that represent outward physical enclosures and boundaries (such as Helheim is the provided example).

You have gathered strength for this journey by using your breath. Now you must move beyond the confines of your body and move through to the enclosures that you enter. (Here Othala represents the boundaries/enclosures of the ‘worlds’ that you leave and that you enter.)

This site seems to corroborate His lesson (of the previous entry): You sink into these forms. You become one with the state of matter as it changes; you become one with these runes: You become breath. You become journey.  You become strength. Your body becomes the boundary.

You have called upon the runes, but in taking them up, they become you and you become them for the duration of the working.

But what surprised me, giving me that sudden ‘eureka’ moment about this site’s suggestions?

The continued mention of the concepts of emptiness followed by the movement implied by sinking *

and the stress upon the concept of

how you must empty yourself before you sink.

And suddenly I make another connection in recalling that my friend, Bran – a long-time Odins-man – once describing the World Tree to me as nothing more than a multi-channeled empty space between the Nine Worlds.

As well, I realize the patterns of how the runes introduced themselves to me in the form of the bindrune He suggested to me in February of 2014 which later became my tattoo:

The first rune I learned about was Eihwaz – the rune of the axis, the World Tree – and how Loki informed me in various ways on several occasions that a tree is both what I am and where I go.

Meanwhile the rune Kenaz signifies Himself.

Now I know why Loki may have chosen this rune to represent Himself to me from the beginning: Raidho and Wunjo were formed in my bindrune in the juncture of Eihwaz and Kenaz – and these two runes I’ve learned may have represented His choice to be my guide on the journey that leads to harmony, joy and ecstasy.


Furthermore, when I began working with Odin in December of 2016, Ansuz came up in my personal readings a lot: voice of the Gods, the voice of Odin.  He is önd, the ‘breath of Life’ given to humans.

Thus, from January to March, almost all of my rune pulls came up Ansuz or Raidho, or both, highlighting the message of the Breath-Journey.  In this, Odin’s message to me seemed to be ‘meditate more’ as well as how one should strive to ‘be empty’ – of fears, petty concerns, and pre-conceived notions.

Soon after, I came across the hollow bone prayer.

And finally, this past June, Uruz and its concepts came up a lot in my personal readings, and I learned Uruz is a rune that signifies the act of preparation and approaching a task using strength and resolve.

The most recent rune had been Othala.   Being a little bit more familiar with Othala, I felt that I was being asked to see the boundaries, and become aware of the edges.  I am amazed to consider now how this might have been in preparation to move through them, move past them.

AnsuzRaidho >> UruzOthala

How amazing it is to realize this lesson is a multi-layered one that has taken place over the last six months – and even more strikingly, the rough outline of this process of utiseta conveyed through runes – exactly as I had been shown by Them unawares- is laid out at Alte Sitte!


*mind blown*



*As well, Loki has been using a hand-signal with me, and I didn’t make the connection until recently: He would make this signal – and I didn’t connect to how it seemed to initiate the beginning of trance-work. I have come to realize this particular hand-signal is the word sink.

Thus, I now know how and more importantly why sink has become one of my trigger-words.  It’s a rather powerful trigger now.

And now to find this site – Alte Sitte – and see discussion of  the process of sinking into the runes in reference to the galdr of runes.







My husband and I stayed up late and we did not go to bed until almost 4:30AM.

But after my husband fell asleep, I saw Him in my head.

Bright blue eyes, and impossibly red hair, He was staring at me.  The television was loud enough to be a major distraction that I found it difficult to ignore, so He simply sat there, staring at me for the next four hours.

And I wondered, was it Odin or was it Loki?

Though it seems to be getting harder to tell, I suppose it does not matter.  They know each other so intimately, They might as well be the same at times like these.

(Same, same, motherfucker…)

One of my dogs woke me up with his barking around 8:30 AM.

So I let him outside, and then I laid on the living room couch, allowing myself to doze while I waited for my dog to come back inside.

I don’t know if my dog came back inside, as I could feel myself falling asleep again, suddenly falling inward rather quickly…

And L was there.  We were in a forest of shadows -black and green and humid.

He said: Utiseta.

Your heartbeat is its own drum.  Listen to it – the rhythm (made by the drum) from the outside is simply meant…to mimic the heartbeat, yes?

Now be still…and listen.

My mind shifted immediately to several visuals of how I best fall asleep …while lying on my back, but even more so lying on my stomach.

(I have been sleeping in that position ever since I was a child.)

Suddenly I remembered choosing that, choosing to lie in that position on the ground with my face in the grass, my nostrils filling with the scent of the grass, dirt, and moisture….my chest pressed to the Earth as I listened and I breathed until my heartbeat kept time with the rhythms of Nature around me.


I looked up to see Him sitting before me, mirroring me, as I was sitting on the ground in that common meditation position.

With a short sweep of His hand, He signs towards me to observe Him.

I watch as He leans backs, His body rocking slowly backward from His hips.

I sense Him relaxing further with each fluid movement.

His eyes flutter slightly; I see His eyes rolling back into His head.

Once He has stretched Himself out upon the ground, He lay there as still as a corpse.

Soon, I could not even sense His breathing.

This is shapeshifting.

Several long moments pass.

It is as if the world around us has settled itself along with Him, into silence, into stillness.

Suddenly, I sense a commotion.

I look up to see a flock of birds rises up from the trees.

He is those birds.

I feel the breeze that rustles through the branches of the tall pines.

That is Him too.

Out of the body, out of the mind

No longer confined, am I



I have a hangover this morning.

But last night, I had an interesting dream.

Last night, I sat in front of His altar and drank.

But just before going to bed and eventually falling asleep, I asked for His guidance.

I remember saying aloud: Where You lead, I will follow.

And this is where He led me…

I was at some sort of event – a concert! – and I was looking for my father.  My father was either supposed to meet me at this event, or somehow, I had realized that my father was there, and I went looking for him. I knew my mother would be with him, but for some reason, I wasn’t balking at seeing her, as I normally would have.

Something terrible had happened, and I’d wanted to make certain she was OK.

As well, another strange thing was that I wasn’t attending this event with (my husband).

Instead, I was attending this event with a man who seemed to be either my boyfriend or my lover. He was a young, handsome man – who seemed way out of my league! – waifishly slender, with long light brown hair and a goatee.  He was utterly charming and he seemed eager to be with me; I was rather taken aback with the attention.  (Based upon his reactions to me I figured this was either a new relationship…or we hadn’t seen each other in quite a while. He gave off such a powerful energetic vibe of joyful sensuality.)

At any rate, this man – my lover –was helping me look for my mother. He agreeably and dutifully informed me that he was there to help me find her.  That was his primary goal, he’d told me.

Then I realized that the time had come when my father would be arriving (though I don’t know how I knew when my father would arrive, I just knew) so I went immediately to the front gate, as I suddenly remembered that this was a ticketed event.  My father (or maybe my mother?) needed a ticket, so I wondered if that might have been the reason that we had to meet.

Upon reaching the front gate, there was a LOT of people!

The sheer size of the crowd would have unhinged me if I was still socially anxious in crowds, but thankfully, upon checking myself inwardly, I realized that I wasn’t feeling the slightest bit nervous or anxious in any way.  Scanning the crowds at the front gate, I suddenly recalled having been to this event and the venue several times before, and therefore, I chalked that up to being the probable reason that I felt entirely at ease.

Though, the most unusual part of the dream involved my feelings about my mother:  In reality, my mother and I are and always have been mutually and irrevocably estranged, but in this dream, I was remarkably excited about seeing my mother as well as deeply concerned for her well-being.

When I finally found my mother in the crowd, she looked lost and sad, maybe a bit confused.  As I watched my lover approach her, and attempt to embrace her in welcome, I was shocked to see her wave him off and look about desperately.  She seemed entirely uninterested in hugging him, however, her face lit up when she saw me.  It was a strange feeling as I hadn’t seen her face light up like that in regards to me in over 30 some odd years O.o

As well, I was equally amazed to feel this powerful mixture of love and relief in response upon seeing her.  I couldn’t remember the last time I felt that sort of intense response to her – perhaps not since I was a very young child.  And yet, when I finally got to hug her, I felt a profound sense of connection, comfort and relief wash over me.

Perhaps this is what others experience when embracing their mothers, I thought to myself, as we held onto each other.

This is what I should have felt all those years, I decided, but oh my goodness, did it feel wonderful to have felt it then….

My mother immediately began to worry aloud about how my father had perhaps already entered the venue.  My mother told me that my father and she had become separated while in ‘this noisy, disorderly crowd.’   Looking about myself, I couldn’t understand how  this could be, as the crowd, though large, seemed full of folks who seemed to be behaving rather orderly and who seemed relatively calm and friendly.  It seemed to me that if she’d spoken up or asked for guidance, she would have received it — but if she had been too anxious and upset to ask for help from strangers….?  I could imagine how she could have misread the situation.

Suddenly, I looked at this woman, my mother, and I felt uncertain.  This woman looked like my mother…dark hair, dark eyes, dark clothes…worn and sad and looking lost.  But I was now there; oddly enough I felt glad that I had been there to comfort her.  I felt glad I had been able to console her.

She had allowed me to help her.  She had accepted my help.  How good it felt to connect with her – a mother who had wanted to see her daughter.  And how relieved I felt to be a daughter that had wanted to see her mother.

These were odd things but they were not small things.


Upon awakening, I thought over this dream and wondered if the event in the dream was somehow about a death of a sort, a death metaphor.  There were so many things about my dream that struck me as being indicative of transition and death

The Context of a Place/Loss: the sense of entry, the darkness, my mother’s fears and sense of confusion…but mostly the fact that my father is dead (he died in 2007) and the context of the dream was that my father was bringing her to a place where he and I had been before but she hadn’t.  And the base of my mother’s fear seemed to be within the context of her fear of loss and a terrifying fear of change – that was tied to the ‘loss’ of my father.  I never saw my father in the dream.  I was supposed to meet him but I had to see my mother first and bring her to him (they had become separated from each other in the crowd and my father had gone on ahead of her (she ‘lost’ her husband) and I was to give them tickets/escort them in?…

Gates, Transition, Waiting: The existence of a front gate and the crowds of people waiting to gain admittance to this place. The necessity of tickets or those who need to escort others in (I needed to ‘welcome’ my father or mother with a ticket; my lover ‘welcoming’ my mother, even though he did not know her.)

The protocols of welcoming gestures, embracing family and family connections:  The shared embraces were signs of connection.  My lover seems like a stranger to both of my mother and me, but he wasn’t somehow.  As well, how my mysterious lover honors the protocol of the welcoming gesture (the hug reserved for family members) upon arrival.  (Perhaps my lover was some sort of transitional entity for myself and for my mother, in that he brought us together?)

The sense of homecoming/relief.  There was a sense of ‘rightness’ or of situations being resolved, and realizing the context of ‘how one is supposed to feel’ and return to feelings that felt ‘right’ or return to feeling ‘connected.’  There was a sense of relief in the crowd too – glad to be here, glad to be with friends, glad to be allowed entrance (because they had their tickets too)…

The sense of darkness of weather/clothing/atmosphere of both sadness and resignation, and relief mixed with joy. My mother was in dark clothes reminiscent of a funeral, as were others.  The physical atmosphere/weather in the dream was that the sky was overcast, and it seemed about to rain, and yet no one seemed all that bothered – there was an air of reverent calm mixed with expectation from everyone but my mother.  My mother was upset and anxious about her ‘loss’, but everyone else seemed to be looking forward to the show.

Themes of transition and return: The sense of difference – this was like no other time, no other place, and yet I recalled it? – and how these odd meetings and memories stirred up feelings I’d either never had or feelings I hadn’t had in a very long time.




The sense of smell is the first of all senses to develop.

Even before birth, the sense of smell is fully formed and functioning.


Recently I stumbled upon this poem by Galina Krasskova, and I cannot seem to stop thinking about it:

Scent Trails

Someone asked me once
if i could sense by scent
when You are near.
They wanted to know,
they said,
what the musk and aroma of a God
might be.

I had to stop.

How to put these things into words?
The vocabulary has not been invented yet.

You are so many things:

the smell of a place where many have died
the darkness of mystery – dank and bloodwarm,
the tang of the sky at the peak of a storm
and the howling of its winds if such sound
could carry with it keen-sharp scent.

You are steel in the cold,
the silent winter’s night
when not even the fiercest of beasts
dares roam
but all watch
with glittering eyes from their lairs:
They too are wary of Your passing.

Yours is the smell of savagery
cunning, and an ecstasy
so deep
worlds were born
in the wake of its devastation.
I cannot hold it,
not even to craft a drop of its essence
into words.

You are the presence
on the battlefield
a century after the last man fell,
the savor of remembrance
the shattering laughter,
a roar in the void,
and the echo of its silence.

You are fury,
oh that monk was right:
you indeed are fury
the glorious, joyous savagery
at the moment two armies meet in battle
at the moment you penetrate hidden power
at the moment you seize the trail of your prey
at the moment, every moment
when that which is in you bubbles over
and burns into those who raise their lips
in adoration to You
and we drink

You are Master of the Hunt
and we are all Your prey
if we are fool enough
(or lucky)
to stumble in the path
of Your desires.

As to scent,
forget what I have written here.
You will know when He comes
how poorly the senses translate
the vast joy-terror of His passing.
You will know
when you too
are marked with His scent.
You will know
when it is far, far too late
to flee.

(posted on her blog 12 October 2015)

One: Student.

Why am I so tired?

I will never understand why I convince myself I am paying attention.

Especially when I realize that it has happened again and I’ve fallen unconscious for hours.

Do You speak to me?

What are the lessons?

Certainly I must be a terrible student to be falling asleep in class all the time, and I only think that I have been awake and listening to You!

But You simply laugh and smile a mysterious smile. You whisper secrets that are nearly unintelligible and Your low chanting seems almost inaudible, as my poor brain struggles to follow along…

I have strange dreams about You.

I’ve misplaced an earring. I’ve forgotten the end of the story.  I’ve become lost in the woods.

You tell me not to worry.

You remind me that important things are never truly lost.

You assure me that the words will come to me; that the path will appear soon enough.

My confusion, my loss, my fear is only temporary; these are nothing more than what has grown from the misplaced beliefs and comfortable illusions I’ve created.

Your face, Your hands, the weight of Your presence are the only tangible things to believe in, the only solid proof to be trusted.

But I am afraid to close my eyes.

I cling to Your hand.

I falter; I fail.

The tears flow out from my eyes.  I am ashamed of my fear, my indecision, my helpless rage.

But You…

You run Your thumb under each of my eyes and lick Your fingers thoughtfully, nodding as You respond:

You worry too much.  You think too much.  Trust Me.


When I first started working with  Odin, everything felt like a distraction.

And recently, in response to my distracted nature, it seemed that Odin had shut off my connection with everyone but Him.

Or so I thought.

But the other night, it turns out that it would seem that Loki is getting through anyway.

I woke up this morning with Vertical Horizon’s Everything You Want inexplicably stuck in my head.

Though I was – until this morning – only vaguely familiar with the song, what was stuck in my head was the chorus:

He’s everything you want

He is everything you need

He is everything inside you 

That you wish you could be

He says all the right things

At exactly the right time

But He means nothing to you 

And you don’t know why.

And my first thought was that this had to be Odin… talking about Loki, because, as I said, Odin has been the only one I’ve been allowed to hear lately.

But then I got a sudden flash of Loki – sitting at the base of my Eiwhaz tree – and suddenly it occurred to me.

Perhaps it was Loki Who is singing the lyrics?

So I cued up the lyric video – which didn’t load.

Then, I cued up the official video

…wondering if this was perhaps part of the lesson:

I’d be forced to focus on listening (in order to hear the lyrics) without the ease of being able to read them as I listened to the song.


Somewhere there’s speaking
It’s already coming in
Oh and it’s rising at the back of your mind
You never could get it
Unless you were fed it
Now you’re here and you don’t know why

But under skinned knees and the skid marks
Past the places where you used to learn
You howl and listen
Listen and wait for the
Echoes of angels who won’t return

He’s everything you want
He’s everything you need
He’s everything inside of you
That you wish you could be
He says all the right things
At exactly the right time
But he means nothing to you
And you don’t know why

You’re waiting for someone
To put you together
You’re waiting for someone to push you away
There’s always another wound to discover
There’s always something more you wish he’d say


But you’ll just sit tight
And watch it unwind
It’s only what you’re asking for
And you’ll be just fine
With all of your time
It’s only what you’re waiting for

Out of the island
Into the highway
Past the places where you might have turned
You never did notice
But you still hide away
The anger of angels who won’t return

But then, upon hearing the final chorus – I suddenly saw a flash of Odin.

(Things have shifted, yes?)

And you know what? 

the last verse is definitely a pronoun shift, as the singer, sounding rather resigned, sings:

I am everything you want

I am everything you need

I am everything inside you that you wish you could be

I say all the right things

At exactly the right time…

But I mean nothing to you

And I don’t know why.

(from here)


Looking at websites as SongMeanings and SongFacts, you may see a lot of commentary that insists that Everything You Want is a song about God, or perhaps Jesus, speaking to a struggling devotee, and though I am by no means a Christian, I can see definitely see the logic in that interpretation.

But Matt Scannell, the singer for Vertical Horizon, admits that the meaning of the song has to do with ‘[this] person who could see everything around her except for the thing that could actually help her.  [She was] a sort of tormented, glasses-half-empty person who was in pain about a bunch of things that had happened to her in her life, and always wound up looking to the wrong places to find solace and to find help. And then when that was over, she would just be emptier than she was before. And I could just see her… sinking. And it was …from my perspective, a sense of wishing that she would turn to me, and… realize that I wanted to help her in ways that maybe she couldn’t see as it being what she really needed … So in the last chorus is really that chance [that I had] to say, ‘Hey, look – enough. I love you. I can help you, but I don’t mean anything to you at all.… But if you’re asking me directly, that’s really where it came from.”


So, in a sense, that further pushes me toward the previously mentioned spiritual interpretations about struggling devotees…who don’t see the forest for the trees.


God of the Hanged

A powerful post by John T Mainer:

As a person who was once prone to suicidal ideation insofar as I’ve attempted to hang myself twice (albeit, badly) and survived, I can relate to this post on several levels.

Hanging yourself is a desperate way to die, and unfortunately, I’ve learned firsthand how desperate the noose can feel.

But it was not until I experienced a structured ordeal in 2013 that brought me as close to the edge of the experience of death by hanging (without the involuntary transformation of death) that I realized the true measure of terror in a death by hanging.

Shit-breeks, indeed…as one’s body revolts in customary ways.

But three times’ a charm, as they say…and therein lies the reasons I’d never wish to venture there again.

Don’t want to push my luck.


(digital artwork: i_was_hanging_from_a_tree by Jects)


I had this vivid dream.

It began innocently enough.  My husband and I were at the beach enjoying some sort of vacation, when I was summoned away by two men.

They had come looking for me, insistent that my presence was necessary to some ritual.  Though they tried to give me directions, their explanations were contradictory if not somewhat confusing to me.

But rather than to admit I was confused, I pretended to understand them as I followed them into the woods.

Following them was difficult, and before long, I got lost in the woods.

There were so many distractions, they said, but they demanded that I observe these animals which came into my path.  One of these distraction was that I kept feeling drawn to chasing these leaves, as the words formed in the flurry of leaves around me were like a rune puzzle I had to solve.  Somehow I believed that the runes-words would help me understand what these men wanted of me.

Thus, they told me what to do to follow them and how to do what they wanted, but I still had trouble staying on task.

It was like a string of fairy tale puzzles, or perhaps even a poem…as the two strangers told me these directions:

Follow the wolf to water.

Watch how the fox woos his mate.

Listen to three blackbirds building their nest and it is of vital importance to memorize their song.

Follow the bear hunting his meal

And you must undo your hair (as I braided my hair before I fell asleep) and in the undoing, carefully now, you must undo the weaving of the path – for every undoing it is a turn in the road.

Left then two right turns then a left and a right then stop and drink.

Be certain to heed the angle of the sun.

And only then, when it is all undone, might you look back where you have been.


When all was said and done, we were at the top of a steep hill, perhaps a mountain.

True to their word, it was a stunning overview of the path I had taken to follow them over the past several hours and I could see down into the valley and the beach I had left.

Looking down, I assumed it would take me a few hours to get back to beach (and also, back to my husband, who was waiting there.)

Much to my dismay, I realized I couldn’t see myself making it back before sundown- I knew I’d lose the way in the dark.

“I am afraid of the dark,” I whimpered, suddenly disinterested in the stunning views.

And Odin — yes it was Odin — chuckled and asked me: It is no matter; what have you learned?  Tell me how the wolf finds water, the Fox his mate, the birds their nest, the bear his meal and how do you undo the riddle in your hair?  Do you know the runes?  The door is wide and you will walk through it . Have you solved the puzzle? 

You  have spent time with Me.

Now you may go home.

And suddenly I was back on the beach.
And my husband lay in the sand, sunbathing.

As my shadow fell over him, he looked up at me, grinning, nonchalantly, as if I’d only been gone but a moment.

He looked relaxed, unconcerned with the passage of time it had taken me to return, perhaps unaware how I had been retrieved back to him.

I asked him how long I had been gone.

“I dunno…maybe 15 minutes?”

It was weird!

Now awake, I think more upon this dream:

The wolf wet his ear.

There was water on their fingers as They* touched my ears.

The Fox woos his mate by arming/marking her chest with blood.

I look down at my chest, knowing what I saw, but I am relieved to see no marks, no blood.

The bird song is a pattern in the forest, a trail marked by sticks.

Perhaps like the Glory Twig…I saw bundles of sticks in patterns strangely familiar, but I’m not certain of their meanings.

And the runes on the leaves – I chased them on the wind and it brought everything – including me! – further into the woods.  Brought me to them.

(Like the runes on the travel charm).

In the dream, I recall I had wanted to braid some of these leaves into my hair, but I didn’t know how.  So I shyly asked the other man to help me, and he did by placing a few of them into my hair, casually mentioning how they could be woven into a pattern.

(I remember the other man talking as he helped me collect and place the leaves in before I had to unbraid my hair….and his words were a pattern too.**)

We should hurry up, He had whispered to me, He has been waiting a long time, and suddenly His tone seemed reminiscent of a young boy conspiring to play hooky, reluctant to go back to school.

When I apologized, He only laughed, responding:

He is patient. 

The sweat of your brow is what He wants.  He wants your difficulties.

Oh, and those thoughts in your head. *tapping my head for emphasis*  They mean something. 

This work.  This is the work.  These are the lessons. 

Make the pattern with your words always. 

The patterns of words bring Us to you, and you to Us.

A prayer.  An offering.

We are listening.


It was nice to think that I got to see Loki even if I didn’t realize it…or get to choose how I could touch Him.

(However, He was allowed to choose how to touch me.  But I notice that He was careful not to be too much of a distraction – not too distracting!  I suppose I’ve still got lessons to learn.)

And before I woke up, the last thing He said:

You must not get distracted so easily until We are done with the lessons.

(I don’t know which lessons, or to whom He was referring: He and I? Odin and I?)


* There were always two men throughout the dream – yet oddly enough, there seemed to be only one present and talking to me at any given time – though it was not until afterwards that I realized Who each of Them seemed to be!

** Perhaps he was Loki? – and He was explaining how He had taught Odin the song that got me to listen?

How odd it feels – to be certain and yet uncertain….at the same time!