This paper very briefly examines the institution of slavery in ancient Rome, exploring how slaves were legally defined as property yet formed the economic and social backbone of Roman society. The study touches on the complex paradox of a civilization dependent on an oppressed population it simultaneously feared and integrated into daily life.
After another two minutes or so of this, I literally felt something depart from my womb area. (I’m given to understand that’s where the Sacral Chakra is, my creativity.) It fled. My whole body shuddered, like an energetic purge. And suddenly… I felt… different. Settled or balanced somehow. I can’t explain it.
Fantasy – I wrote it years ago, but I admit without help it wouldn’t sound half as mediocre-okay as it does. Fantasy Late night I hear the callingOf the vast rolling seaThe waters capture the seashellsThen they pull away from meShould I heed the maidensTo harmonize as they singI’d risk falling and drowningWhile the sky […]
This isn’t me deciding last week things were fantastic. This is me having always lived the fantastic, and sometimes being confused when people who pray to their gods or cast a spell can’t go as deep into it as I am or do. Do you believe in your gods? I have asked. Yes or no. Do you believe in fairies? Yes or no. Turns out that for many it’s no, they just don’t accept it about themselves.
For shits and giggles I had put this paper up on Academia.edu. You can pick it up there if you like. It was written in community college. I enjoyed working on it. It’s not especially deep, but looking back I do see my “unique perspective” starting to shine through. It’s a popular paper and I […]
Poetry. Death is sometimes a simple matter of taking a walk and dancing into the soft comfort of a new dawn.
Spearcarrier here—computer fan screamin’, space-heater roastin’ my toes, pizza waitin’ in the wings. Complete with swear words.
DO NOT STOP STIRRING! OR THE EGG DRAUGR WILL RISE! Their brains are scrambled and they will want yours! The safety of the nog depends on it!
Okay the word is out and I can speak. My friend. The author I published. My mentor in music and a bit in magic. Leslie. She’s very sick. She’s a stubborn lady, and her stubbornness gave her a long life. In the end, it knocked her down. Watching the ingratitude around her, the outright attacks, […]
Poetry. The Wyrd-weaver heard the call of Odin and answered on a wet day, despite being sick in bed with strep throat. She got out of bed, and with Odin’s power felt better enough to get her shaman’s rattles and journey to him on the godly plane. He made a request, and she agreed -without realizing the cost.
This is Loki’s art. He is wise in læ, and he says so himself almost bitterly in Lokasenna. Which ultimately led me to… taking a look at Læveteinn, the locked away weapon waiting for Ragnarok. When I finally understood what I had found, I had to walk away from the paper and process carefully. I realized for the bigger work this comes from, that one little word and the mistranslation made all the difference. I had found the thing I’d been hoping to find – backup for my working hypothesis.
This post seems to go hand in hand with my podcast talk about feeding the spirits. As the Midwinter Nights lonely festivities progresses, my hobgoblin husband makes his preferences more and more clear. I know the lesson is layered. On the one hand, most people offer him candies and cakes. They put fireballs in whiskey. […]
I started my first shamanic classes ever this week. “Be an exemplary student,” I heard as I stood by Grandfather Shortlegs’s altar. I will, I responded. The teacher clearly didn’t like me – no surprise – and she showed favoritism to students who had psychology profession backgrounds or loved Jung. But yesterday it came to […]
On a whim I was watching the above video about the Slavic Whisperers, Orthodox healers in Poland. As I listened to their talk about their art and their “spells”—and watched one in action—I kept thinking of the Nine Herbs Charm. It’s the whispers, the flare of the candle, the whole of it. The Anglo‑Saxon charm […]
I’ll add another human observation. Families have traditions. Thanksgiving, Christmas—every household has its own way within a shared frame. It’s nonsense to imagine álfablót was so alien to human habit that every farm did it identically. The sources themselves imply the opposite: secrecy, household control, variation.
“Better no offering than an oversized one. A gift always calls for a return. Better no sending than over sacrificing. So þundr endured.”
Spirits need some. Please note it’s not saying you have to give blood, which is good because blood is not my way. It Doesn’t need to be fancy. It doesn’t need to be overpowering. A little offering is better than an oversized one. So a little bit goes a long way.
The little yellow-kilted fairy was hiding. I could smell him as a fish in the water, so I dived into a lake. So: I met the Salmon of Knowledge, tried not to steal his scroll-sweets, and learned that some guardians are strict but fair—and that kisses, not hooks, weave the better wyrd.
The most dangerous spirits don’t announce themselves with horns and sulfur. They come wearing the faces of the gods you trust. I had another one get through my wards last night. I, by the way, did all the things you’re supposed to do: It was clever, presenting itself as Wōðnaz, with a friend masquerading as […]