My latest project, Kenaz Filan en français, is part of my continuing efforts to master le premier langage de l'art, la philosophie, et l'amour. I am no Honoré de Balzac or Michel Foucault (although in my drinking days I could have given Serge Gainsbourg some competition!), so you can expect that my translations of earlier posts will leave something to be desired. I am hoping that with time my mastery of French will improve and I will sound like Jean Genét rather than one of his less gifted cellmates. Any corrections from those more skilled in French than myself (which is no small group!) will be welcomed.
My first order of business will be to translate my rune posts into French: afterwards I will try to keep both blogs updated simultaneously.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Monday, June 21, 2010
Cweorth
According to Northern European legend
, the worlds came into being when Muspelheim, the blazing land of the fire giants, struck Niflheim, the icy home of the frost giants. They will end at Ragnarok, when everything returns to the primal fire to be recreated again. Fire marks both beginning and ending: it reminds us that everything new rises from the ashes of the old and that there can be no destruction without creation - and vice versa. This is the great mystery of Cweorth, the rune of the fire-twirl which sustains life and the funeral pyre which marks its passing.
Like any flame, Cweorth cannot operate without fuel. To effect its transmutations, it consumes that which is unnecessary, outmoded or superfluous. This can be a painful process: what we desire and what we need can be very different. When Cweorth acts to change us, we may lose those things which we hold most dear: we may find our most cherished illusions about ourselves and our world stripped away. Cweorth can manifest like Tarot
Trump XVI (the Tower). It is the lightning strike which knocks down the fortress built on sand, forcing us to rebuild on a more sturdy foundation. For those of a more technical bent, Cweorth can function like a security audit on our networks. It can point to gaping holes and potential exploits in your defenses, giving you a chance to repair them before it manifests as an attack on your system.
If Os functions as the higher octave
of Ansuz, Cweorth can be called the higher octave of Kenaz. Both runes act as agents of initiation and rebirth. But Cweorth is more harsh and impersonal. If Kenaz transforms the individual, Cweorth changes the group and the world. Kenaz is the light which allows us to survive the horrors wrought when Cweorth comes into play in the political sphere. Cweorth sparks the war which will ultimately resolve the long-standing border dispute: Kenaz can provide us with the foresight and wisdom to bring it to the best possible conclusion. Kenaz can help us to manifest what should be: Cweorth is concerned only with that which must be. Kenaz is the divine spark within us, while Cweorth is the flame which in the end will consume even the Gods.
Cweorth also partakes of the nature of another flame-rune, the need-fire of Naudhiz. Like Naudhiz, it can become the flame which drives us onward. But while Naudhiz is the urge to survive, Cweorth provides us the energy to go on when survival is no longer an option. The starving Jews who fought when all hope was gone in the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising
knew Cweorth all too well. In the end we all return to ashes: Cweorth lets us choose the hero's death and the deeds which will blaze bright as a pyre after we are gone. In the end, our bodies and our lives are superfluous: Cweorth liberates us from their bondage and purifies our spirit that it might return to its rightful place. It leaves us in the end with nothing but our works and the monuments we leave behind. And if those too will one day be consumed, Cweorth reminds us that they are no less valuable for that. Cweorth forces us to grab the present and make the most of it: that which is will become that which was and that which is no more.
Like any flame, Cweorth cannot operate without fuel. To effect its transmutations, it consumes that which is unnecessary, outmoded or superfluous. This can be a painful process: what we desire and what we need can be very different. When Cweorth acts to change us, we may lose those things which we hold most dear: we may find our most cherished illusions about ourselves and our world stripped away. Cweorth can manifest like Tarot
If Os functions as the higher octave
Cweorth also partakes of the nature of another flame-rune, the need-fire of Naudhiz. Like Naudhiz, it can become the flame which drives us onward. But while Naudhiz is the urge to survive, Cweorth provides us the energy to go on when survival is no longer an option. The starving Jews who fought when all hope was gone in the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising
Monday, June 14, 2010
The Rights of Clients, the Rights of Practitioners
Quite a few of the people who frequent Vodou, Rootwork/Hoodoo or African Traditional Religions forums are looking for a practitioner to do magic on their behalf. Quite a few others are practitioners seeking clients. If you believe in Adam Smith, this may seem an ideal situation: a marketplace where buyers and sellers can meet and make arrangements for private workings. The truth is that the spiritual marketplace, like any other marketplace, is fraught with danger and those who stumble in blindly are not likely to fare well. And this is true for those on both sides of the equation: a naive seller who thinks s/he has stumbled upon the pathway to riches may fall as hard as a naive buyer who is convinced that s/he is one wanga away from a lottery jackpot and early retirement. If you are going to engage in spiritual commerce, it behooves you to set some appropriate boundaries.
"Caveat emptor" always applies. If you are seeking a houngan, rootworker, iyalocha, etc. you should do some research and check their reputation. Everyone has a few disgruntled clients and there are certainly many practitioners who will try to build their own reputations by tearing down others. But where there is smoke, there is often fire. If there are numerous accounts of a teacher engaging in sexual, physical or financial abuse, you may want to take them seriously. (And while sex magic is a valid path, it is emphatically NOT a part of Haitian Vodou or any African traditional religion. If someone suggests the solution to your spiritual problems can be found in his pants, or tells you to strip naked so he can give you a "spiritual bath," run, don't walk, away). If you find your worker-to-be has a history of using information gained in confidence to embarrass dissatisfied clients ("Of course your wife wouldn't come back to you. It's not MY fault that you're an unemployed alcoholic!" etc.), you can assume that your information will be used in a similar fashion.
By the same token, I also recommend "caveat vendor." If your prospective client sends you pages of word salad talking about how aliens from Mars and the Zionist Occupying Government are conspiring with her ex-husband's new girlfriend, you may want to think twice about taking her on as a client. If someone wants a wanga so his girlfriend will "jump when I say jump and do everything I tell her to do like the bitch she is," you accept his money at your own peril. One of the best way to avoid loud, disgruntled clients is to avoid people who need a psychiatrist more than they need a spiritual advisor. There is no shame in saying "I don't think I can help you: best of luck in your search." There is shame in taking financial advantage of mentally ill or desperate people. And not only is it unethical, it's bad business. You'll soon find that those clients will take up an inordinate amount of your time and energy - then turn on you when you're unable to provide them the healing they so desperately seek.
As with anything else, a little bit of common sense can go a long way. If you spend as much time and energy researching a rootworker as you would researching a prospective dentist or caterer for a big party, you're likely to avoid the worst case scenarios. If you treat your obligation to your clients as a sacred duty and respectfully decline to take on people whose needs are beyond what you can offer, you're likely to avoid most public blow-ups and mud-slinging. In either case ask yourself "I am going to be spending several hours with this person: would I feel comfortable sitting beside them on a long bus ride?" If the answer is no, both of you need to look elsewhere.
"Caveat emptor" always applies. If you are seeking a houngan, rootworker, iyalocha, etc. you should do some research and check their reputation. Everyone has a few disgruntled clients and there are certainly many practitioners who will try to build their own reputations by tearing down others. But where there is smoke, there is often fire. If there are numerous accounts of a teacher engaging in sexual, physical or financial abuse, you may want to take them seriously. (And while sex magic is a valid path, it is emphatically NOT a part of Haitian Vodou or any African traditional religion. If someone suggests the solution to your spiritual problems can be found in his pants, or tells you to strip naked so he can give you a "spiritual bath," run, don't walk, away). If you find your worker-to-be has a history of using information gained in confidence to embarrass dissatisfied clients ("Of course your wife wouldn't come back to you. It's not MY fault that you're an unemployed alcoholic!" etc.), you can assume that your information will be used in a similar fashion.
By the same token, I also recommend "caveat vendor." If your prospective client sends you pages of word salad talking about how aliens from Mars and the Zionist Occupying Government are conspiring with her ex-husband's new girlfriend, you may want to think twice about taking her on as a client. If someone wants a wanga so his girlfriend will "jump when I say jump and do everything I tell her to do like the bitch she is," you accept his money at your own peril. One of the best way to avoid loud, disgruntled clients is to avoid people who need a psychiatrist more than they need a spiritual advisor. There is no shame in saying "I don't think I can help you: best of luck in your search." There is shame in taking financial advantage of mentally ill or desperate people. And not only is it unethical, it's bad business. You'll soon find that those clients will take up an inordinate amount of your time and energy - then turn on you when you're unable to provide them the healing they so desperately seek.
As with anything else, a little bit of common sense can go a long way. If you spend as much time and energy researching a rootworker as you would researching a prospective dentist or caterer for a big party, you're likely to avoid the worst case scenarios. If you treat your obligation to your clients as a sacred duty and respectfully decline to take on people whose needs are beyond what you can offer, you're likely to avoid most public blow-ups and mud-slinging. In either case ask yourself "I am going to be spending several hours with this person: would I feel comfortable sitting beside them on a long bus ride?" If the answer is no, both of you need to look elsewhere.
Os
Astrologer Dane Rudhyar
referred to the outer planets (Uranus, Neptune and Pluto) as the "Higher Octaves" of Venus, Mercury and Mars, respectively. In his words
Many people believe that the Gods spoke with men only in a long-ago Golden Age. As we have drifted away from our original perfection, They moved back to their divine realms and left us to our own devices. This idea appears in many cultures, from the Judeochristian Garden of Eden to the "Kali Yuga" cycle of Hinduism. It explains the distinction between our flawed world and the perfection of divinity, and it also empowers a class of theologians to make sure scripture is interpreted in a way that best suits the needs of the ruling class.
Os puts the lie to that assertion: it reminds us that the Gods are intimately involved in our daily lives and in the workings of our world. Os simultaneously reaffirms and transcends the divide between the spiritual and material. It is the rune of omens, of prophetic dreams, of the lightning flash which turns its target into a Speaker for the Divine. Os transforms the artist into a skald, a channel for forces which can transform the world. In tandem with Ansuz, it becomes an engine which moves the world in accordance with the Will of the Gods, investing words and symbols with an irresistible force.
But Os also cautions us that the Gods are not always benevolent nor is their Will always merciful. If Os is a higher octave of Ansuz, it is also deeply connected to the Need-Rune Naudhiz. Os is not concerned with what we might like or what might be best for our personal interest: it tells us instead of that which Must Be. Like the outer planets of astrology, there is something vast and impersonal about Os. As Humphrey Bogart said in Casablanca
, "the problems of three little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world." To Os we are but brushstrokes used to create the Big Picture. It will take exquisite care in placing us, but will erase us without hesitation should that prove necessary.
When Os appears in a reading it means that the spiritual world has taken notice of the situation. How that interest will play out depends on the surrounding runes and the querent's actions, but for better or worse it will play out. What seems of little importance to us may be of great value to the Gods: what seems priceless to us may be a mere trifle to them. When Os is in play we will do best to listen and to learn.
The field of activity extending (symbolically at least) between the Sun and Saturn is the field of the conscious; it is energized by the Sun and structured at one level by Venus and at another by Saturn. The field of activity beyond Saturn's orbit represents all that is also beyond the strictly conscious activities of the individual, of the person defined by his or her ego structures and by the shape and the limits of his or her physical body. These two fields are essentially different in character.This is a useful way to describe the relationship between the runes Ansuz and Os. Both of them are connected to communication: both can be called upon to establish a connection between the worlds of the Sacred and the Profane, and each can best be understood in light of the other. But Ansuz is more grounded in the mundane world and in the information exchanges which allow our society to function. Os, by contrast, is intimately tied to the spiritual world. It offers access to the highest forms of inspiration. If Ansuz is a means by which we can communicate with the Gods, Os is a means by which They communicate with us.
Many people believe that the Gods spoke with men only in a long-ago Golden Age. As we have drifted away from our original perfection, They moved back to their divine realms and left us to our own devices. This idea appears in many cultures, from the Judeochristian Garden of Eden to the "Kali Yuga" cycle of Hinduism. It explains the distinction between our flawed world and the perfection of divinity, and it also empowers a class of theologians to make sure scripture is interpreted in a way that best suits the needs of the ruling class.
Os puts the lie to that assertion: it reminds us that the Gods are intimately involved in our daily lives and in the workings of our world. Os simultaneously reaffirms and transcends the divide between the spiritual and material. It is the rune of omens, of prophetic dreams, of the lightning flash which turns its target into a Speaker for the Divine. Os transforms the artist into a skald, a channel for forces which can transform the world. In tandem with Ansuz, it becomes an engine which moves the world in accordance with the Will of the Gods, investing words and symbols with an irresistible force.
But Os also cautions us that the Gods are not always benevolent nor is their Will always merciful. If Os is a higher octave of Ansuz, it is also deeply connected to the Need-Rune Naudhiz. Os is not concerned with what we might like or what might be best for our personal interest: it tells us instead of that which Must Be. Like the outer planets of astrology, there is something vast and impersonal about Os. As Humphrey Bogart said in Casablanca
When Os appears in a reading it means that the spiritual world has taken notice of the situation. How that interest will play out depends on the surrounding runes and the querent's actions, but for better or worse it will play out. What seems of little importance to us may be of great value to the Gods: what seems priceless to us may be a mere trifle to them. When Os is in play we will do best to listen and to learn.
Monday, June 7, 2010
Kenaz
Depending on which rune-verse you study, you may come up with some very divergent ideas about this rune. The most popular interpretation today is inspired by the Old English verse, which describes Kenaz as a "torch," a fire which burns "clear and bright" and which brings illumination to those within the hall. But Norwegian and Icelandic verses describe this rune as a "sore" and connect it with death. One reading seems to bring enlightenment: another disease and ruin. As is often the case, there are great mysteries hidden within this paradox - and great power for those who can reconcile the seeming opposites.
It is no coincidence that initiation rituals frequently involve a ceremonial death and rebirth. The transformation from outsider to dedicant involves deep change within the individual's interior and exterior life. Initiation does not just provide access to the Mysteries: it grants membership in a social group and entails new rights and responsibilities. The person who leaves the initiatory chamber may be very different than the person who went in. This change can be disorienting and traumatic: in putting aside childish things you put aside a way of life which had its joys as well as its miseries. Kenaz reminds us that wisdom comes with a price and that every fire must be fed.
The fire of Kenaz is not one that can easily be snuffed out. If you try to contain it, it will break free and burn its way through you like an ulcer eating its way through your skin. Those who have experienced "shaman sickness" - the mental and physical upheaval that can take place when the Gods reinvent Their chosen clergy to better suit Their purposes - know all too well how painful the process of enlightenment can be. The sores with which Norwegian and Icelandic poets identified Kenaz also served to mark their bearers as a people set apart - not as cool, dangerous magicians but as diseased lepers shunned by decent folk. Wisdom does not always bring profit to the wise: those who think otherwise are encouraged to read H.G. Wells' classic short story, "The Country of the Blind."
But if it is channeled Kenaz can become the fire of inspiration. Kenaz is connected with smithing, the transformation of raw ore into weapons, armor and artwork. It can also be the flame which purifies, cauterizing wounds and burning away impurities. Like the Christian legend of the Holy Spirit descending as fire, Kenaz can enflame you with new ardor and zeal. If you are suffering from ennui or feel that you have "lost the spark" in your job or your relationship, Kenaz can rekindle those old flames and remind you why you once felt so passionate. It is not the blinding mystical inspiration of Wunjo: Kenaz is a much more practical rune. It provides a way out of the darkness or an elegant solution to a problem: it concerns itself less with the ways of the Gods and more with the ways of our world.
Yet despite this (another paradox!) Kenaz is intimately connected to the Divine. It is the creative fire which Prometheus stole from heaven and brought to the mortals: it is the place where Spirit and Matter meet, like the meeting of Fire and Ice which created the Nine Worlds of Norse legend. It makes the mundane holy and the sacred useful. Kenaz is the spark of divinity which burns within each of us, that light which reminds us of where we have come from and where we are going, the flame which is fueled by our bodies and our lives. It is the fire which strips away the dross from us and makes us something greater: it is the light which illuminates the truth and sanctifies that which is profane.
It is no coincidence that initiation rituals frequently involve a ceremonial death and rebirth. The transformation from outsider to dedicant involves deep change within the individual's interior and exterior life. Initiation does not just provide access to the Mysteries: it grants membership in a social group and entails new rights and responsibilities. The person who leaves the initiatory chamber may be very different than the person who went in. This change can be disorienting and traumatic: in putting aside childish things you put aside a way of life which had its joys as well as its miseries. Kenaz reminds us that wisdom comes with a price and that every fire must be fed.
The fire of Kenaz is not one that can easily be snuffed out. If you try to contain it, it will break free and burn its way through you like an ulcer eating its way through your skin. Those who have experienced "shaman sickness" - the mental and physical upheaval that can take place when the Gods reinvent Their chosen clergy to better suit Their purposes - know all too well how painful the process of enlightenment can be. The sores with which Norwegian and Icelandic poets identified Kenaz also served to mark their bearers as a people set apart - not as cool, dangerous magicians but as diseased lepers shunned by decent folk. Wisdom does not always bring profit to the wise: those who think otherwise are encouraged to read H.G. Wells' classic short story, "The Country of the Blind."
But if it is channeled Kenaz can become the fire of inspiration. Kenaz is connected with smithing, the transformation of raw ore into weapons, armor and artwork. It can also be the flame which purifies, cauterizing wounds and burning away impurities. Like the Christian legend of the Holy Spirit descending as fire, Kenaz can enflame you with new ardor and zeal. If you are suffering from ennui or feel that you have "lost the spark" in your job or your relationship, Kenaz can rekindle those old flames and remind you why you once felt so passionate. It is not the blinding mystical inspiration of Wunjo: Kenaz is a much more practical rune. It provides a way out of the darkness or an elegant solution to a problem: it concerns itself less with the ways of the Gods and more with the ways of our world.
Yet despite this (another paradox!) Kenaz is intimately connected to the Divine. It is the creative fire which Prometheus stole from heaven and brought to the mortals: it is the place where Spirit and Matter meet, like the meeting of Fire and Ice which created the Nine Worlds of Norse legend. It makes the mundane holy and the sacred useful. Kenaz is the spark of divinity which burns within each of us, that light which reminds us of where we have come from and where we are going, the flame which is fueled by our bodies and our lives. It is the fire which strips away the dross from us and makes us something greater: it is the light which illuminates the truth and sanctifies that which is profane.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Kenaz Filan Interview Tonight on "Unraveling the Secrets"
Tonight I will be interviewed by Dennis Crenshaw and Rick Osman on Unraveling the Secrets from Midnight to 2 am Eastern time. I will be discussing Vodou and trance possession, among other topics, and am looking forward to my first online video appearance. And for those of you whose computers aren't up to online video, the audio portion of the program will be simulcast on Blog Talk Radio. See you at the stroke of midnight!
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Teiwaz
Our culture has an innate distrust of "one-true-wayisms." We would like to believe that one creed is just as good as another and that everyone is entitled to believe whatever they like so long as they don't force their ideas on anyone else. Postmodernist philosophers
have suggested that objective truth is merely a tool used by the dominant classes to maintain their privileged position. This worldview is challenged by Teiwaz, the Tyr-Rune. Teiwaz proclaims not only that objective truth exists, but that there are some truths which are worth fighting, dying and even killing over. But if it has little patience for relativism, neither is it a rune of simplistic moralizing. Like truth, Teiwaz is often hard, complex, and even paradoxical.
Tyr, the God who gives this rune its name, became most famous for his role in trapping Fenrir
, the great wolf who threatened to devour the Nine Worlds
. Before he would consent to being bound by the magical rope, Fenrir demanded that one of the Gods place his sword-hand in his mouth as proof that no treachery was involved. Tyr agreed to do so: the wolf was tied and, in its efforts to escape, bit off Tyr's right hand. In breaking troth with the Great Wolf, Tyr preserved the universe from destruction. He proved himself willing to sacrifice not only his life but his honor for the greater good. When Teiwaz comes up in a reading, it may require this kind of sacrifice from the querent - not romantic martyrdom but squalid shame and degradation for that which Must Be Done. Teiwaz reminds us that honor is about living righteously, not about acclaim from the crowd.
But though Teiwaz can demand difficult choices, it can also provide stability. Teiwaz points toward the facts which underpin our world. Gravity sends the earth spinning around the sun, whether or not we choose to accept it. 2 + 2 = 4. Those who say it equals 5 are not expressing a different but equally valid way of looking at things: they are simply wrong. And like mathematics and physics, there is an underlying truth to the ways of righteousness. Those ways may be as complicated as calculus or quantum mechanics: they may lead us not to the bright new future of Broadway musicals but to the terrible conclusions of Greek tragedy. But they are still there, and may still be followed by those who choose the right over the convenient.
Needless to say, Teiwaz can be a terribly dangerous rune. To claim the truth and take responsibility for protecting it is a mighty obligation. Wielding Teiwaz requires tremendous humility and compassion: you must know well the difference between righteousness and self-righteousness and you must be prepared to mourn for that you must destroy. If you are not worthy to take up Teiwaz it will turn on you. It will find all your weaknesses and failings and use them against you: in the process it will either teach you a hard lesson or it will destroy you.
When angered, Teiwaz can attack with a fury that would give Thurisaz pause. It combines that rune's pinpoint rage with the massive irresistible power that Isa brings to a problem: its strike carries the weight of the inevitable. Those who are willing to follow Teiwaz wherever it might lead them can use that might toward a final victory. They may not survive the battle, but if their cause is worthy they can know that it will ultimately triumph, no matter the cost.
Tyr, the God who gives this rune its name, became most famous for his role in trapping Fenrir
But though Teiwaz can demand difficult choices, it can also provide stability. Teiwaz points toward the facts which underpin our world. Gravity sends the earth spinning around the sun, whether or not we choose to accept it. 2 + 2 = 4. Those who say it equals 5 are not expressing a different but equally valid way of looking at things: they are simply wrong. And like mathematics and physics, there is an underlying truth to the ways of righteousness. Those ways may be as complicated as calculus or quantum mechanics: they may lead us not to the bright new future of Broadway musicals but to the terrible conclusions of Greek tragedy. But they are still there, and may still be followed by those who choose the right over the convenient.
Needless to say, Teiwaz can be a terribly dangerous rune. To claim the truth and take responsibility for protecting it is a mighty obligation. Wielding Teiwaz requires tremendous humility and compassion: you must know well the difference between righteousness and self-righteousness and you must be prepared to mourn for that you must destroy. If you are not worthy to take up Teiwaz it will turn on you. It will find all your weaknesses and failings and use them against you: in the process it will either teach you a hard lesson or it will destroy you.
When angered, Teiwaz can attack with a fury that would give Thurisaz pause. It combines that rune's pinpoint rage with the massive irresistible power that Isa brings to a problem: its strike carries the weight of the inevitable. Those who are willing to follow Teiwaz wherever it might lead them can use that might toward a final victory. They may not survive the battle, but if their cause is worthy they can know that it will ultimately triumph, no matter the cost.
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