The Rainbow Bridge

About twenty-two years ago, in High Point, I was tutoring of a sixteen-year-old, Ben, with the blessing of his devout Moravian mother who had sought me out and hired me after Bed had expressed an interest in Magick. During this time, Ben’s family sponsored a Swedish high school student who lived with them for six months or so.

As it turned out, the visiting student had little to no knowledge or understanding of the old Nordic religion, which was his birthright. So when he expressed an interest in experiencing a ritual, we all agreed that I would get to work and come up with something that his ancestors would’ve understood — to expose him to the energy to help him establish a connection with his roots.

Perhaps I benefited from this project more than he.

From the start of my research, I found that I grokked Nordic beliefs, with an immediate understanding which I still don’t have with the Celts nor or the Greek and Roman heroes. Only the Egyptian do I know better (except for the Tibetan, but that’s a whole ‘nother story), but the Egyptian connection is because I had a grand master to explain it to me and put everything in place.

Actually, the Egyptian correlates with precision as a foundation for the Nordic. Again, another story…

So we did a Golden Dawn circle, put up Delphi and exposed the kid from Sweden to his metaphysical heritage, with a ritual which included a pass by Yggdrasil. with a trip to each of it’s gigantic roots to experience the norns and then on by boat to stand at the base of the rainbow bridge, where he was invited to ask any beings on the other side to cross over and speak to him. It was the five dollar tour for a kid who might never have the chance to connect with Odin again.

The ritual was a success and I am still changed from the experience, which has brought a discernible difference to my view of the world or universe. The Swedish kid seemed to have been blown away, but he never expressed a further interest in Magick.

About a year ago, one of my sisters, who has been working on our family tree, told me she’d had her genes processed by a lab, looking for genetic markers indicating geographic heritage. They found England, Scotland and Cherokee, of course, but they also found a significant amount of Sweden, which surprised me…and didn’t. They also found some Armenian or Georgian, which would supply the balance to hide my inner Swede.

They’re all me, right?

At least on the level of the Moon path, the reptialian brain where genetic memory is processed. So I no longer wonder why I so effortlessly understood the viking stuff. It’s a gift from my ancestors, encoded in my DNA.

Just Desserts

Yesterday my roommate and I were trying to find something fun to do together since we both had the day off. We ended-up in downtown Pilot, mainly so she could hit the ATM to put some cash in her pocket. We were then going to walk across the street to the candy store, which turned out to be closed, even though it was the middle of the afternoon on a Friday.

We figured it was closed because it was Good Friday. That would make sense, in a nonsensical sort of way. We’re in rural North Carolina, the buckle of the bible belt, and it wouldn’t surprise me if a born again closed a candy store two days before Easter Sunday, one of the biggest candy holidays on the Christian calendar. Around here, they take praising Jesus seriously.
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