As a musician I’m big on knowing theory. I can talk about double harmonic minors, and 13:8 time, and 16^th note sweep picking (on a bass, whee!) all day long. And I can effortlessly apply that theory: it isn’t just words or ideas (well, ok, the 16^th note bass sweeps do take a bit of effort, but I’m getting there!).

The discipline of all that structure is paradoxically freeing. When I want to do fast, complex music, my hands know what to do because my brain is so well versed. I know intuitively how different tones will combine from my theoretical understanding. I can break down compositions and assemble arrangements with both flair and rapidity. I can store a lot of information about musical structure very simply through the application of underlying rules of harmony or rhythm, which makes learning, performing, and remembering material a lot easier.

I’m far from perfect, and my music theory is very much geared towards practical usage rather than armchair reflection (I’m 100% self-trained). But nonetheless, I think the point is made.

I have even found that, being so deeply grounded in the “rules” of music, I can break them freely. I often find myself doing this with harmonic construction these days. I like the challenge of creating fresh tonal canvasses within the “rules” of conventional scales and chords, but I also find myself freely able to break up recognisable patterns and work atonally. Because I know what the “rules” of music are I can break them in interesting and enjoyable ways.

Occasionally I encounter the view that learning a lot of music theory can be a straightjacket that destroys spontaneity and the creative impulse. I know this does happen sometimes, especially for heavily drilled classical students.

Yet most people I’ve met who claim to avoid learning theory in order to preserve their freedom of expression actually have a rather limited range. They often seem to devolve to the same two or three tricks over and over again, not understanding how to develop their sound. They might be able to “hear” how to give flesh to the bones of their ideas, but lack the skill to embody their creations in a satisfying way.

In the worst cases they resort to “experimentalism” as a substitute for inspiration and ability, hiding behind provocative bungling as though it were a purposeful choice and not an inarticulate flailing.

So my point should be clear: with prudence and an adventurous attitude one can free oneself by submitting to the rigour of musical theory. One needs to avoid the reef of drudging slavery to musical form, and one needs to avoid the seemingly free – but actually inarticulate and blundering – position of being anti-theory.

Well, I see Heathenry in a similar light.

Sure, reconstructionism produces various boffins who shackle themselves to academic minutiae and end up saying the most ridiculous things. On the other hand, without the discipline of historical grounding, people cook up the most half-baked spiritual repast and, not knowing any better, think that they’re somehow creating something wonderful! Yet their efforts lack depth, grit, character (and you see this just as much among “Folkish” Heathens as among Universalists, incidentally).

The better road is to take the adventurousness of the Unsubstantiated Personal Gnosis (UPG) brigade (the anti-theory, or anti-reconstruction types), and the rigour of the reconstructionists. In this way, theory can offer a discipline which frees the creative spark to express itself with great subtlety.

For me this manifests as what I generally refer to as Psychological Reconstructionism. For example, to me understanding the worldview of the old Heathens – the importance of wyrd, time, interconnection, sacredness, hospitality, gift-giving, and reciprocity – stands over and above particular debates about exactly what clothes were worn when or the like.

And this attitude frees me to recognise the similarities between Heathenry and other traditions, even while simultaneously preserving a feel for the uniqueness of the Heathen traditions (and others). Just as music is a universal language spoken in an infinite range of nuances – so too culture. Hence, for example, when I see in Odin the archetype of (among others) the Wounded Healer, I can recognise how this connects him to many other cultures and traditions, even though I can still celebrate the manner in which he is a unique manifestation of that meme.

As a musician I’ve played in prog rock bands, death metal bands, world music outfits, experimental groups, folk ensembles, and bands that have fused various of the aforementioned influences. I’ve touched on genres as varied as black metal, hip hop, and ‘live’ dance music. I’ve played with blast beating metal drummers from hell, African percussionists, tabla masters, Middle Eastern percussionists, you name it (in some cases, I’ve played with people who’ve had mastery of several of these domains!). In all of these configurations, I’ve used the same language to find my way, bringing my particular idiom (to borrow from Monty Python’s Quest for the Holy Grail) to bear in each case.

And I have the same attitude with culture. I bring my own spiritual idiom to the world, but I can freely interface with kindred spirits across all sorts of literal and figurative borders. My deep sense of specific identity – my interest in reconstructionism and ancestor worship – informs my spirit in ways that also enable me to interface with the Other, until I come to appreciate the ways in which seemingly hard barriers are always more porous and fascinating than first shallow glances might suggest.

Hence I am a reconstructionist who loves UPG; and I am a staunch ancestor worshipper and Europhile who embraces cross-cultural exchange and intermingling at the same time. Because to me, the latter is part of the heritage I glean from the former. Just as I am a theory-based musician who thinks nothing of violating every harmonic law in the book if it creates the effect I want (and indeed, I use my knowledge of the ‘rules’ of music and spirituality to break themselves in creative and appealing ways).

The fundamental question is this: are the forms of tradition (be it musical or spiritual or whatever) there to serve us, or are we to serve them? Or is it a bit of both? If we respect them we recognise that they were born from the inspiration of our predecessors, and hence to truly be “reconstructionist” (which, I should mention, is NOT at all necessarily synonymous with being Folkish or Universalist or any other -ism, as these comments on the whole imply) one might have to break the rules of reconstructionism now and again.

In my personal microcosmos Elric and Odin and alchemical Mercury are deeply related (yet naturally distinct); and for me the profound obsession with memory in Heathenry seems uncannily like the same obsession in Sufism (yet I at least cannot seem to effect a straightforward, simple fusion of the two). Things can be different yet the same; in fact this is what the symbol of Yggdrasill is all about: reminding us of the simultaneous oneness and difference of all things, and reminding us of the necessary interdependence that binds the archetypes of  isolation and dissolution.

Blur the lines and we see things as they are; blur the lines and we begin to shed abstraction and embrace the endless mystery from which our world is woven. The closer you examine any boundary, the less distinct it becomes – that might not make it less real, but it forces us to recognise that our specific, localised uniqueness is not dependent on rigid separation, nor necessarily threatened by absence of the same.

What counts is our integrity and our vulnerable imagination. Rigidly clinging to rules about either isolated specificity or generalised universality amounts to underutilising our human faculties and potential. As always, George Orwell had it right to blame the ills of the world on the gramophone mind and not on the particular records being played at any given time.

For like it or not, we are all hedgewalkers like Odin (another reason to call him Allfather), whether it comes to musical expression or spiritual inspiration. The point of being strict…is so that we can become free of all restriction.

All only in my humble, internally contradictory, and frighteningly arbitrary opinion, of course.

In the centre of the cosmos there is no throne, but the sound of thunder! (Hubert Veðrfölnir)

Life behaves as if it were going on. The universe behaves as if Gods exist. The Psyche is not bound by the laws of time and space…

“I begin with nothingness. Nothingness is the same as fullness. In infinity full is no better than empty. Nothingness is both empty and full. As well might ye say anything else of nothingness, as for instance, white is it, or black, or again, it is not, or it is. A thing that is infinite and eternal hath no qualities, since it hath all qualities.

This nothingness or fullness we name the PLEROMA. Therein both thinking and being cease, since the eternal and infinite possess no qualities. In it no being is, for he then would be distinct from the pleroma, and would possess qualities which would distinguish him as something distinct from the pleroma.

In the pleroma there is nothing and everything. It is quite fruitless to think about the pleroma, for this would mean self-dissolution.

CREATURA is not in the pleroma, but in itself. The pleroma is both beginning and end of the created beings. It pervadeth them, as the light of the sun everywhere pervadeth the air. Although the pleroma pervadeth altogether, yet hath created being no share thereof, just as a wholly transparent body becometh neither light nor dark through the light which pervadeth it. We are, however, the pleroma itself, for we are a part of the eternal and the infinite. But we have no share thereof, as we are from the pleroma infinitely removed; not spiritually or temporally, but essentially, since we are distinguished from the pleroma in our essence as creatura, which is confined within time and space.

Yet because we are parts of the pleroma, the pleroma is also in us. Even in the smallest point is the pleroma endless, eternal, and entire, since small and great are qualities which are contained in it. It is that nothingness which is everywhere whole and continuous. Only figuratively, therefore, do I speak of created being as part of the pleroma. Because, actually, the pleroma is nowhere divided, since it is nothingness. We are also the whole pleroma, because, figuratively, the pleroma is the smallest point (assumed only, not existing) in us and the boundless firmanent about us. But wherefore, then, do we speak of the pleroma at all, since it is thus everything and nothing?

I speak of it to make a beginning somewhere, and also to free you from the delusion that somewhere, either without or within, there standeth something fixed, or in some way established, from the beginning. Every so-called fixed and certain thing is only relative. That alone is fixed and certain which is subject to change.

What is changeable, however, is creatura. Therefore is it the one thing which is fixed and certain; because it hath qualities: it is even quality itself.

The question ariseth: How did creatura originate? Created beings came to pass, not creatura: since created being is the very quality of the pleroma, as much as non-creation which is the eternal death. In all times and places is creation, in all times and places is death. The pleroma hath all, distinctiveness and non-distinctiveness.

Distinctiveness is creatura. It is distinct. Distinctivness is its essence, and therefore it distinguisheth. Wherefore also he distinguished qualities of the pleroma which are not. He distinguisheth them out of his own nature. Therefore he must speak of qualities of the pleroma which are not.

What use, say ye, to speak of it? Saidst thou not thyself, there is no profit in thinking upon the pleroma?

That said I unto you, to free you from the delusion that we are able to think about the pleroma. When we distinguish qualities of the pleroma, we are speaking from the ground of our own distinctiveness and concerning our own distinctiveness. But we have said nothing concerning the pleroma. Concerning our own distinctiveness, however, it is needful to speak, whereby we may distinguish ourselves enough. Our very nature is distinctiveness. If we are not true to this nature we do not distinguish ourselves enough. Therefore must we make distinctions of qualities.

What is the harm, ye ask, in not distinguishing oneself? If we do not distinguish, we get beyond our own nature, away from creatura. We fall into indistinctiveness, which is the other quality of the pleroma. We fall into the pleroma itself and cease to be creatures. We are given over to dissolution in nothingness. This is the death of the creature. Therefore we die in such measure as we do not distinguish. Hence the natural striving of the creature goeth towards distinctiveness, fighteth against primeval, perilous sameness. This is called the PRINCIPIUM INDIVIDUATIONIS. This principle is the essence of the creature. From this you can see why indistictiveness and non-distinction are a great danger for the creature.

We must, therefore, distinguish the qualities of the pleroma. The qualities are PAIRS OF OPPOSITES, such as:

The Effective and the ineffective.
Fullness and Emptiness.
Living and Dead.
Difference and Sameness.
Light and Darkness.
The Hot and the Cold.
Force and Matter.
Time and Space.
Good and Evil.
Beauty and Ugliness.
The One and the Many.

The pairs of opposites are qualities of the pleroma which are not, because each balanceth each. As we are the pleroma itself, we also have all these qualities in us. Because the very ground of our nature is distinctiveness, which meaneth:

1. These qualities are distinct and separate in us one from the other; therefore they are not balanced and void, but are effective. Thus are we the victims of the pairs of opposites. The pleroma is rent in us.

1. The qualities belong to the pleroma, and only in the name and sign of distinctiveness can and must we possess and live them. We must distinguish ourselves from qualities. In the pleroma they are balanced and void; in us not. Being distinguished from them delivereth us.

When we strive after the good or the beautiful, we thereby forget our own nature, which is disinctiveness, and we are delivered over to the qualities of the pleroma, which are pairs of opposites. We labor to attain the good and the beautiful, yet at the same time we also lay hold of the evil and the ugly, since in the pleroma these are one with the good and the beautiful. When, however, we remain true to our own nature, which is distinctiveness, we distinguish ourselves from the good and the beautiful, therefore, at the same time, from the evil and ugly. And thus we fall not into the pleroma, namely, into nothingness and dissolution.

Thou sayest, ye object, that difference and sameness are also qualities of the pleroma. How would it be, then, if we strive after difference? Are we, in so doing, not true to our own nature? And must we none the less be given over to the sameness when we strive after difference?

Ye must not forget that the pleroma hath no qualities. We create them through thinking. If, therefore, ye strive after difference or sameness, or any qualities whatsoever, ye pursue thoughts which flow to you out of the pleroma: thoughts, namely, concerning non-existing qualities of the pleroma. Inasmuch as ye run after these thoughts, ye fall again into the pleroma, and reach difference and sameness at the same time. Not your thinking, but your being, is distinctiveness. Therefore not after difference, ye think it, must ye strive; but after YOUR OWN BEING. At bottom, therefore, there is only one striving, namely, the striving after your own being. If ye had this striving ye would not need to know anything about the pleroma and its qualities, and yet would ye come to your right goal by virtue of your own being. Since, however, thought estrangeth from being, that knowledge must I teach you wherewith ye may be able to hold your thought in leash. … God is not dead; he is as much alive as ever. God is the created world, inasmuch as he is something definite and therefore he is differentiated from the Pleroma. God is a quality of the Pleroma and everything that I have stated in reference to the created world is equally true of him.

God is distinguished from the created world, however, inasmuch as he is less definite and less definable than the created world in general. He is less differentiated than the created world, because the ground of his being is effective fullness; and only to the extent that he is definite and differentiated is he identical with the created world; and thus he is the manifestation of the effective fullness of the Pleroma.

Everything that we do not differentiate falls into the Pleroma and is cancelled out along with its opposite. Therefore if we do not discern God, then the effective fullness is cancelled out for us. God also is himself the Pleroma, even as every smallest point within the created world, as well as within the uncreated realm, is itself of the Pleroma.

The effective emptiness is the being of the Devil. God and Devil are the first manifestations of the nothingness, which we call the Pleroma. It does not matter whether the Pleroma is or is not, for it cancels itself out in all things. The created world, however, is different. Inasmuch as God and Devil are created beings, they do not cancel each other out, rather they stand against each other as active opposites. We need no proof of their being ; it is sufficient that we must always speak about them. Even if they did not exist, the created being would forever (because of its own differentiated nature) bring them for out of the Pleroma.

All things which are brought forth from the Pleroma by differentiation are pairs of opposites; therefore God always has with him the Devil.

This interrelationship is so close, as you have learned, it is so indissoluble in your own lives, that it is even as the Pleroma itself. The reason for this is that these two stand very close to the Pleroma, in which all opposites are cancelled out and unified.” (C. G. Jung 1916: The Seven Sermons to the Dead)

Listen to the message of a modern prophet: Carl Gustav Jung.

There can be many reasons and triggers that can wake you up — wake you up to that kind of awareness, where the higher and hidden levels of the spectrum of human consciousness are experienced. I can remember a week some years ago, when I fasted for five days (no food at all, but much water and juice) and I meditated a lot and did other spiritual excercises from Crowley’s curriculum. And in one moment I realized my mind was so clear that I thought to myself: “How can life be any different again? It’s so easy to attain such a clear mind. I will never loose it again.” Believe me, it’s easier to fall asleep than to wake up again. The mind is such a tricky and sneaky thing! I guess nothing is easier than to travel the road of life asleep until one dies. Hence the need for a spiritual discipline. Nothing else helps. I tried it. Pills, thrills, drills and stuff that kills. But only slow and steady wins the race. Not the extreme and radical, but the golden middle. Neither this master nor that teaching, neither this order nor that secret ritual, neither this drug nor that technique. All that is needed is Here, all the that you have is the Now, the only one who can do the Work is you. “Who is the Great Master that makes the grass green?” You, the silent Watcher, you, the Ultimate Observer.

However, some times are special, when we feel that Wyrd leads us and just everything falls into place. Such times are often characterized by unusual events, books you find or get, people you meet, things you discover, music you hear and all kinds of weird / wyrd synchronicities.

There are many songs I remember that influenced me during that time of sheer beauty and madness. (Literally one friend of mine later had a psychosis, because the things we were experiencing and ‘consuming’ were just too much and too heavy.) Two songs I remember vividly and still love are Fokstua Hall and Svartálfar by Fire + Ice (like many other songs by this magical band) and now I found out that Sweyn has written these two songs! Things like that are magical, meaningful and empowering on a personal level, because it gives one’s life a direction and purpose. They confirm on a personal level that you were and are on the right track.

The Inmost Light and This Shining Shining World (read the text below) are my favourite songs by the band Current 93, a band that was also very important on my path for some time. This Shining Shining World kind of ‘converted’ me with the help of magic mushrooms and the Tibetan Book of the Dead from nihilism to the beauty and awe of Mystery. And thus I broke on through to the other side that greeted me behind the dead end of existentialism, which I thought (in my youthful arrogance and ignorance at age 15) was the last answer to all questions. But since I could gaze at the spinning of the Wyrd Sisters on “the other side” (or behind the curtain and beneath the obvious) I decided to open up to the possibility of magic and pantheism. To put it rather roughly: I concluded that we may be — maybe — more than a chunk of meat. Since then my interest for mysticism and the Occult became a vital part of my life. I came to know, rather than to believe (like Mr. Jung, listen to his words above), that we are more than we seem. The idea that there are secrets which are eternal mysteries — that is what I am interested in. And I am still going. Still seeking…

(In this process after having been a member of a rather known occult franternity I came to be opposed to so-called occultism, because the occultists assert that there are secrets, but what they think of as mysteries are rather conventional things that I now put in my pocket. These people just make any arbitrary thing a secret and simply conceal it from you for the sake of keeping it a secret to manipulate people or to simply create a commodity and they will tell you that these “secrets” can only be revealed to you if you become a member of this group, read this book or do something along those lines. This is utter nonsense. True mystery does not belong to anyone nor can it be taught, shown, revealed or attained.)

However, since then I was touched by the Ansuz flame. And I remember that when I had my second trip and looked through the Looking-Glass I did my first Staða of Dagaz — my absolutely most beloved Rune and the central mystery of a certain God, who is said to be a great Poet, Magician and Master of ecstatic Consciousness.

“But to love me is better than all things: if under the night-stars in the desert thou presently burnest mine incense before me, invoking me with a pure heart, and the Serpent flame therein, thou shalt come a little to lie in my bosom. For one kiss wilt thou then be willing to give all; but whoso gives one particle of dust shall lose all in that hour. … Put on the wings, and arouse the coiled splendour within you: come unto me!” (AL I, 61).

Since then I had only one sincere wish: to seek for spiritual liberation. Sounds naive, probably. But who doesn’t want to be free? Free from what, one is inclined to ask? Freedom is a myth, the Buddhist Master and Tantric teacher of “Crazy Wisdom”, Chögyam Trungpa, once said (in: Cutting Through Spiritual Materialism). By showing, in true Buddhist fashion, the interdependence of everything that exists, the dependence of any thing on some other thing is demonstrated (pratītyasamutpāda = „dependent origination“), including the ego, resulting in the realization that all things are ‘void’ or empty of any characteristic. So freedom in the way the usual Westerner imagines it doesn’t exist according to the philosophy of Shunyata (“Emptiness”), invented by the Buddhist scholar Nagarjuna (c. 150 – 250 CE). Though I’ve always been humbled and fascinated by Buddhist philosophy (not knowing a lot about it), I reject its world- and life-denying implications. That’s why I’m mostly interested in the Left-Hand Path manifestations of Tantric Buddhism and of the manifold sects (used here in a positive sense) of the complex religious phenomenon in India that the British colonials called rather unimaginatively “Hinduism”. Already Crowley observed:

“The essence of the Tantric cults is that by performance of certain rites of Magick, one does not only escape disaster, but obtains positive benediction. The Tantric is not obsessed with the will-to die. … [H]e implicitly denies the proposition that existence is sorrow and he formulates the postulate … that means exist by which the universal sorrow … may be unmasked.” (Crowley, in: Grant 1991 [1971]: The Magical Revival)

So freedom for an orthodox Buddhist or a Gnostic was reached when they were freed in a state of bliss (Nirvana or Heaven), delivered “from the body of Death” (Saint Paul). For a Tantric (spiritual) freedom was already here, for those who were strong, determined and courageous enough to grasp it. It is reached by developing what the chaos magician Julian Wilde once called Vajra Awareness. My brother and me had lastly a conversation and we were talking about god(s), the world(s) and all that stuff and then I misheard what he said, when a car drove by. And what I heard was: “In the centre of the cosmos there is no throne, but the sound of thunder!” Kaos Keraunos Kybernetosthe: The Chaos Thunderbolt Steers All Things. To hear the thunder and the silence at once, to see with the all-pentrating eye of the true nature of the mind, it is necessary to reach vajra awareness:

“The first necessary (and much misunderstood) stance is the need to remain ‘centred’, self-aware, to retain one’s ’spirit’, … to seek an uninterrupted stream of consciousness/awareness whatever may happen, be it calamity, death or rebirth/becomings. It is a channelling process/tendency, an identification of the self as separate/disengaged from the rest of the universe.

The second is the need to transcend the human view-point, to realise the narrowness, arrogance and ultimate impotence of one’s present perception and to seek a re-alignment of one’s will/vision to that of the universe/void/chaos flow. It is a diffusing process, an identification with something larger than the human perspective (that can, unchecked or abused, lead to false bliss, a nirvanic torpor, a capitulation of drive/energy).

Held/practised together these two polar opposites create a third, highest stance. As usual the tantrists have a word for it. The word ‘vajra’ or ‘dorje’ can either mean a diamond ie- that which is compact/focused, symmetrical/crystalised, unbreakable, immutable, untarnishable (part of the drive to eros/control, order, possession) or a thunderbolt ie- that which is frightening, all-powerful, ego-destructive, disintegrating (part of the drive to thanatos/disorder, ego-death). ‘Vajra’ therefore may also be held to mean both stances (diamond-eros and thunderbolt-thanatos) together/simultaneously. This captures nicely the feel of the third stance so let us call it the vajra-awareness. As a bolt of lightning (the thunderbolt) strikes the earth, swift, random, brilliant (ILLUMINATING!), so too must the vajra-awareness be instantly in response, cultivated to be active/reactive to changing emotional states, rebirths, disasters and environments, being one with the lightning, being the lightning, flowing at one with all but retaining the diamond-hard yet infinitely flexible self-ness in the midst of conditions, manifestaions and becomings. The vajra-awareness is what it touches yet it retains its self-ness, wherever it alights there is totality and purity, where it is not are ignorance and eventual suffering.

The vajra-awareness, then is a conscious integration/inter-action with all that is – an eternal balance between self-knowing/posession and immersion in the ceaseless flux of the universe.“ (Julian Wilde 1999: The Grimoire of Chaos Magick)

This is what has to be done. One of the most important tasks of that Great Work is the attainment of the Knowledge and Conversation of the Holy Guardian Angel. In terms of Germanic Soul-Lore this part of the Magician’s Psyche is called the Fylgja or Fetch. It can be contacted by certain methodologies like this one. The relationship to that entity (HGA, Augoides, Dæmon, Genius, “Totem”, Deep Mind or Fylgja) is a vital part of one’s initiatory process. The HGA / Fylgja is often thought of as a non-human intelligence or a seperate being that carries in it all the ancestors’ pasts and holds the individual’s fate.

“As to why such a relationship is vital to cultivate, even in early stages of one’s Rune Work, that’s perhaps easier.  I’d say that the idea of the complex, multifaceted Self — the plural Soul — is one that is absolutely key to deep understanding of and practical work with the Northern Mysteries (and Indo-European mysticism in general). It’s also one of the ideas that has been most thoroughly abolished from the modern, materialist concept of the self.  We clearly yearn for it though, and it consistently emerges in pop culture and fantasy literature (think of the daemons in Phillip Pullman’s His Dark Materials series, and I’m sure other examples will come to light).  It is a very difficult task to learn to think of ‘One’s Selves’ rather than ‘Oneself,’ but when we can do so, we come to know, rather than to believe, that we are more than we seem.  And we move farther and faster along the road of personal transformation in the Germanic Tradition.” (Ristandi)

Such a transpersonal guide is hidden in the soul-complex and to be discovered by those who travel along the Runic pathways that lead down, around and up the Tree. This part of the Soul is non-local in the sense of quantum mind. To say it more accurately: it’s here in Midgard and there in Asgard simultaneously — the ‘Realm’ of Awakened Consciousness that might be (according to “metaphysics of ’substance’”) / do (according to “all things flow”-process philosophy) in non-local ‘hyper-space’ beyond time, connected with the other eight worlds of the map of the multiverse, f.e. as represented by the Chaos Star (the multi-directional expansion of consciousness from a central still-point). Um mik ok í mér Ásgarðr ok Miðgarðr! From the point of view of the Germanic Soul-Lore, that C. G. Jung helped to dig up, this entity, the Fylgja, does not die because it already exists in an eternal dimension not bound by the laws of time and space, like Jung already suggested. And, apparently, most cosmological and psychological maps, especially those influenced by shamanic lore, implied something along those lines. Michael Kelly, who worked a lot with the Celtic soul model, says:

“We may now gain a perspective on what may cause an active shade or ghost to linger, if an attachment is still felt toward a loved one who embodied the deceased’s Other on the physical plane. But as I considered the soul in the context of Desire, I realised that the féin does not pass from this world into the magical realms upon physical death. Why not? Because it is already there and it always has been. The sense of Self is not and has never been bound to the physical body. Even in the most dull and unimaginative of people, it indulges in daydreams, it dreams while the body sleeps and it creates new worlds within the imagination. The féin resides permanently in the magical realms and it interfaces with the physical body through the other parts of the soul that we have described. Upon death, it draws several of those parts back to itself to one degree or another.”(Michael Kelly 2009: Apophis)

In Sweyn Plowright’s book True Helm Ian Read puts forth the idea (in the foreword) that upon following the guidelines in this book “you may create such a strong being (that we call hamingja) and may even, upon death, join those greatest warriors … in Valhalla.”  Ultimately, I come to understand it in such a way that the Hamingja — the life force and soul power of the magician — may become so strong in the process of individuation that even upon death it will survive.

“But exceed! exceed! Strive ever to more! and if thou art truly mine — and doubt it not, and if thou art ever joyous! — death is the crown of all. Ah! Ah! Death! Death! thou shalt long for death. Death is forbidden, o man, unto thee. The length of thy longing shall be the strength of its glory. He that lives long & desires death much is ever the King among the Kings.” (AL II, 71 – 74)

So, from a Germanic point of view, the Fylgja (unique to an individual, but nevertheless completely independent of him / her) and the Hamingja (later to become associated with one’s indwelling luck) are (semi-)autonomous ‘entities’ and yet portions of the individual’s psyche that are immune to physical death. What happens to the Self? Can it unite with the Fylgja and Hamingja? Does it continue to exist after death, like Kelly suggests in his Celtic soul model? Or is it rather an illusion as suggested in the teachings of Nagarjuna and as expressed in the idea of pratītyasamutpāda (dependent origination)? I don’t know, fellow traveler. It’a Mystery hidden in your Soul. Seek it!

“Consider the lillies of the field…” (Matt. 6: 28)
Consider the carnage and massacre
Consider the love and embraces
Consider the hangingred skies
Consider the pain of your enemy
Consider the hatred of your friend
There, oh there, there is the land
All the musics shall combine
All the daughters are no longer brought low
They are araised
In brightfiregodgiven they rejoice
And those who deny this world
Is the soul of the unbroken one
Lie
This is indeed Paradise
(Come I shall show you where
The stars give birth and sleep)
And all around you is the warm bluegreen breath of heavens
Do not fear
Around you is the vast blueblack space of stars
Do not fear
This is the great ocean
On which the endless waves crash down
God is not dead
There is no death I say
(Come I shall show you where
Dreams go to when they die)
Hurry now; the sun is descending
The shadows wait to play

Current 93, Of Ruine Or Some Blazing Starre — The Broken Heart Of Man (1994)

]]> http://www.elhazablaze.com/2010/08/death-is-not-an-end/feed/ 7 http://www.elhazablaze.com/2008/12/at-the-art-gallery/ http://www.elhazablaze.com/2008/12/at-the-art-gallery/#comments Sun, 28 Dec 2008 01:05:02 +0000 Heimlich A. Loki http://www.ironwoodsound.com.au/elhaz/?p=416 (Warning: I use the term “arch-Heathen” in this post. It refers to the “original Heathens” from back when Europe was a pre-modern, pre-Christian place. I don’t know who first coined this term).

I’ve found myself at a strange loose end these last few days, following the dismantling/collapse of one of the most important things in my life. Consequently I’ve been staying at the home of my band mates, and because of the time of year the world around me rather reflects the limbo I have entered.

Today more than most I knew that I needed to move, evolve, shift my consciousness. I found myself alone, in solitude, and while there was a temptation to raid my band mates’ disgustingly huge CD collections, I know myself. I had to get the blood moving through my limbs and brain.

Uncertain where to head, particularly on a glaring and disgusting Sydney summer day, I called on Woden as the Wanderer and invited him to set my feet on the correct path. He responded; my journey took me into the city, then had me roam in a seemingly accidental spiral, which tightened and tightened around the New South Wales Art Gallery.

I love the NSW Art Gallery. I love visiting the old statuary of Hindu gods, today pausing in particular to acknowledge an image of Vishnu surrounded by his many avatars. I wondered idly if Woden is not in fact an avatar of Vishnu, and I an avatar of Woden – an avatar of an avatar! I love the Hindu gods – they’re like friendly and well-known cousins to my own Indo-European spiritual forebears.

I love staring into the infinity of Aboriginal dot art. These huge canvasses seem at first to have little merit, being covered in uniform rows of white dots. The magic lies in staring at them for an extended period of time. Only machines make perfectly uniform lines, and so the slight variations in the arrangement of the dots create visual illusions and beautiful trance states.

Folk glance at these images for but a handful of seconds and then wander off, thinking Aboriginal art to be little more than primitive splotches. If they exhibited even a little depth or patience, they’d discover whole universes.

But the reason Woden led me to the Art Gallery was that, although I did not know it, the current feature exhibition was on Impressionism, with Monet in the starring role.

“All I have ever done is try to convey my experience before nature” – Claude Monet, 1912.

I love Monet. He is my favourite painter. He paints with light. His work does not represent reality; it presents for you the thing itself, the very experience and spirit of the thing or place that he has painted. Look too close and you’ll fall in. When I behold his paintings I smell the grass or the snow, feel the wind, the taste of dawn light or afternoon shadow. My understanding of the natural world was grossly incomplete before I encountered his work.

I was fortunate enough to see a major Monet exhibition a few years ago and in the final room was a massive water lily painting. It literally filled the entire room with colour and radiance and it took me some 15 minutes acclimatising before I could bring myself to even look at it, let alone really engage with it.

The waterlilies were produced in the final years of Monet’s life, and they represent the pinnacle of his work. Vast multiverses await anyone brave enough to really gaze into these images. From the pond in his own back yard Monet presented the whole fabric of Being for all to see. What artist could ever even dream of competing with that?

It doesn’t work with the prints you can buy of his work, either. Mass-production ruins the spell. Only the actual works by the actual artist can take you into the magic.

Seeing these marvellous images, being thrown into deeply altered states of consciousness by these paintings, caused me to reflect on something I read recently in an article that touched on the “folkish versus universalist” debate in Heathenry.

Regular readers will know that I consider this debate to be a barren waste of time, and will also know that I happily incorporate elements of both points of view into my own – which to me just demonstrates how vacuous the argument is.

This particular article argued that extremely strict and rigourous historical reconstruction is needed for modern Heathenry and that anything less is a deep affront and offence to the gods. The worst of the lot, the argument went, were those bloody universalists, off syncretising Heathenry with other traditions.

Of course many universalists are not in fact syncretists, so this particular person was obviously a bit of an expert at executing straw men.

And of course, there is a logical flaw in arguing that the gods would be offended if we’re not strict reconstructionists – because from what I can see that view could only be supported by Unsubstantiated Personal Gnosis, and is therefore an example of the kind of creative license this article regarded as anathema.

There is of course the passage in Havamal that asks if you know how to carve, stain, offer, sacrifice, etc. But there is no passage in that poem that runs “and if you don’t reconstruct exactly how we did these things then we’ll get pissed at you”.

There is also an emphasis on doing things the “right” way – but again I can’t see any historical basis for equating this with hard reconstructionism, though it seems likely that being familiar with history would rather be of assistance.

Given that my strange chaos magic-influenced runic experiments seem to work I can only conclude that the gods are Not in fact adverse to innovation, though I suppose keeping it in the spirit of the tradition would be good manners (whatever “the spirit of the tradition” means – another matter of arbitrary opinion I fear).

This isn’t to say we should throw out the historical record of course – on the contrary, it is a source of marvelous riches. Often when you do the research you find that the arch-Heathen’s view on a particular issue was much more interesting than the psuedo-historical stuff that folk sneak into modern Heathenism all the time.

But just because it is old and original doesn’t mean it is the best – the Heathen cultures of yore certainly didn’t agree with one another on how to do things, and in the meantime I think we can safely dispense with human sacrifice and the like.

Look at me – I started by rhapsodising about the rich experiences afforded by Monet’s work and now I am debating ideas and ideology. What a degeneration! It troubles me that so many Heathens are so eager to debate theory and ideology but so few are willing to go and directly engage with the magic of the ancestral traditions, the natural world, the runes, and so forth.

(In fact, given that the arch-Heathens seemed far too busy living life to be splitting intellectual hairs, it seems distinctly syncretistic and unHeathen to get obsessed about distinctions like folkish/universalist).

The point of my questioning the hard reconstructionist view that the only valid sources for modern Heathenry come from the original Heathens is this: what if the spiritual and cultural current of Heathenry never really went away, but has instead been happily manifesting itself in all sorts of guises since the Conversion?

My instinct is to say that this possibility could only ever be the truth. What else would guide us back into the arms of history but the latent Heathen intuition and instinct that still lives within us?

And so I turn to Monet, whose art – like the Greek temple Heidegger invokes in his landmark essay “On The Origin Of The Work Of Art” – redeems us to a reverent relationship to nature.

This reverent relationship is deeply scored in the art, mythology and physical culture that the arch-Heathens left behind. And yet I would argue that its most refined and ultimate expression does not occur until nine hundred odd years after the Conversion: on the doorstep of nihilistic modernity Monet erected the final distillation of the Heathen-animist experience.

Monet is not the only one – Nietzsche, Heidegger, Moorcock, Cave, Von Till – the list goes on, artists, thinkers, writers, musicians who, whether consciously or not, have expressed in powerful terms the threads of arch-Heathen consciousness.

We would be utterly insane not to draw upon these living, breathing (though concealed) manifestations of the life-urge which shaped arch-Heathen culture and consciousness in the first place.

In Hinduism, a useful and valid Indo-European cognate to Heathenism, there are always new developments, as great humans are elevated to godhood and as cultural mores shift. For our ancestors it was no different – we need only compare the different branch cultures of old Heathenry. Modern Heathenry will not be truly reconstructionist until it whole-heartedly embraces innovation.

Again, this is not to dismiss the reconstructionist project, which is utterly needed if we are to have a fluid connection to the Well of Memory. I am as amused and disappointed by the endless hordes of shallow and idiotic pseudo-Heathen writings and articles as anyone else. But if we dismiss the impulse that produces these well-meant attempts then the game is over, too.

Look at it another way: as soon as we reduce modern Heathenry to hard reconstructionism we are left with two choices: either continue to draw on post-Conversion Heathen manifestations such as Monet’s art and thus become hypocrites; or abandon computers, modern languages, stop eating potatoes, and countless other absurd sacrifices. The reconstructionist project might be necessary but it sure as hell is not sufficient to produce a genuinely flourishing modern Heathenism.

Me? I’ll be letting Woden guide me to the art gallery, where I’ll gorge my soul on Monet and listen to the advance reference tracks of the new Ironwood album (about to come out) on my mp3 player. And hope that one day the focus of mainstream Heathenry will be the experience, the thing itself, and not irresolvable debates about what amount to arbitrary rules.

I’m cynical about the notion of the “folkway”, or at least cynical about the way in which it often gets articulated these days. The ‘folk’ are meant to be an organic body of people whose lives are interrelated at an everyday level. Trying to articulate the importance of this concept at a theoretical or philosophical level seems to be completely missing the point. It’s about everyday interactions, not allegiance to common ideas. Allegiance to common ideas is politics, which has no place in the ‘folk’.

I’m cynical about the idea that all Heathens/Ásatrúar/etc are linked together and as such distinct from other folk. Most of the ‘clan’ that I am tied to, a kind of ‘folk’ bound together by shared experience, common values, and mutual liking, are not Heathen, though many of them are very spiritual. They accept the validity of my way of talking about things and even sometimes the applicability of my northern metaphors to their lives.

Note that sharing common values is different to allegiance. Allegiance claims dogmatic certainty; anyone who subsequently changes their opinion is suddenly rejected as a traitor or a prodigal child. To share values means that organic developments or changes of opinion are accepted and respected. There is diversity within the broad similarity.

But back to the people I am bonded to. It is a real bond, not some abstract ‘bond’ to all Heathens. There are Ásatrúar out there with whom I disagree on just about everything – why on earth should I feel closer to them than to those with whom I have weathered storms and revelled in happiness? Of course, I also have some deep connections to certain souls who have incorporated Heathen spirituality into their lives.

I believe that there really are ancestral streams. We are our ancestors regardless of whether we take on ‘Heathenism’ as a set of dogmatic truths to be forced on all those of Indo-European/Germanic heritage (or even to be forced upon anybody). A number of my friends are deeply archetypal, and wear their ancestral energies openly and clearly. But they are not Ásatrúar, and it doesn’t matter. They remain archetypal, having either figured out who they ‘really’ are, or else simply being so overwhelmingly carved of one block of wood that it becomes obvious for all to see.

These people are manifestations of ancestral forces, and in being true to themselves, they are true to the gods – for the gods ARE our ancestors. Personally I think they might get a lot out of the odd bit of ritual or reading some mythological poetry, or whatever, but basically these folks are fundamentally ‘tru’. Who am I to say otherwise, just because they do not accept Heathenism as a religion? Hail to those who walk the spiritual path, for that is what our mythology sprung from and always returns to anyway.

I reject dogmatism, and I reject the notion that Heathenism can survive without making spirituality a central focus. By the same notion, if we cannot criticise our own ‘religion’, then we are lost. For then we have become a sad and insecure joke, addicted to the false pleasures of egotism.

It also brings me no pleasure to report that in my time I have known a few Heathens who have been in deep denial of their actual ancestral/archetypal nature – despite being explicitly Heathen! Without exception all of these folk were dogmatists, egotists, and would only accept spirituality to the extent that it made them feel safe or justified in their insularity.

I have friends from a mix of different ethnicities – why should they not be part of my ‘clan’, if they are in their own ways true to themselves and therefore their gods? We share the common thread of self-respect and other-respect (Gebo is the principle of all meaningful relationships).

In my experience, those who talk on and on about ‘The Folk” are those who don’t actually have an organic social group built around mutual liking. Rather, they have only bands of individuals bound by a certain degree of common dogmatic belief, just like a cult or a political party. They talk about “The Folk” so incessantly because they don’t actually live it. The more they try to IMPOSE what is actually an organic social pattern, the more they alienate themselves from it. This quickly becomes a vicious cycle. I don’t mean to say ALL “Folkists” are in this predicament, of course – but many I have met ARE in this predicament.

To be fair, I am not therefore ‘siding’ with the universalist approach to Ásatrú, which is also dogmatic. I don’t think all religions are neatly interchangeable, and I don’t think it makes sense to ‘cut n paste’ different traditions unless you have a deep appreciation of each of the paths involved. Even then, this has to be something personal, and certainly should not be presented as ‘truth’.

Spiritual and cultural traditions do evolve, and they do incorporate elements from other paths – this is part of the organic nature of these paths and to try to force ‘purity’ on them is actually to lose them. However, these intersections and evolutions are gradual things, borne from mutual recognition rather than expediency or a superficial addiction to image. If you like something’s image, get into it! But don’t be so pretentious that you start ripping off the ideas that go with that image.

Eclecticism can easily devolve into constructing an intellectual framework to justify one’s insecurities, limitations and egotism. Then again, a biased interpretation of just one spiritual path (as I have seen before with some Heathens) can do exactly the same thing.

I’ve also noticed that a lot of the more ‘purist’ types enjoy waxing self-righteously about how confused or mistaken this or that group of eclectics are – yet many of these people were themselves once eclectics. If you tell people they are stupid and wrong, you should expect that they reject you. When you tell people this in a spirit of hypocrisy, they have every RIGHT to reject you.

Surely if our ways are going to have a hope of being seen in a positive light we have to get over this egotistical nonsense. I may be deeply unamused by a lot of the fluffy bunny crap that passes itself off as spirituality these days, but I’m equally unamused by the hypocrisy and absurdity of what often goes on in the Ásatrú scene.

One final thought. Heathenism is supposed to have a huge amount of respect for nature and the environment, yet most exponents of “The Folk’ hardly mention this, if at all. Without nature, our traditions are utterly empty. It is already difficult enough that so many of us are urban in basis and cannot often be in the wilderness. Give some respect to the earth, the sea, and the sky, for they were and are the cradle of the Northern Tradition.