Working With The Gods: Heimdall

Heimdall is possibly the less called deity when it comes to spiritual work. Not that people haven't tried or have no need for him, on the contrary, he is much needed, but he is also needed on his post for he is a guardian deity and seldom leaves his halls or its surroundings. He was once called to protect young boys or to attend the rituals when young boys become men. He is a good advisor for the young and he also protects them, but nowadays that kind of work isn't done as often as it used to be.

Doing spiritual work with Heimdall is very hard, only in very few circumstances will he come to the spiritual-worker. Most of the time it is the person doing the spirital work that will come to him. This out of the body experience will be easier for the spiritual-worker. Heimdall prefers male spiritual-workers, and the young who have recently become adults, he has much to teach to the young ones who have just began their journey and fight in this world.

Ljossalfheim 2nd Part

Continuing with Ljossalfheim, I will write in this 2nd part the places of great importance within this realm. I shall start with the Hall of Freyr.

Freyr is the Vanir deity of fertility, of both the earth and living creatures, the god of love, magic, light. He is the brother of Freyja and he is also the Lord of Ljossalfheim / Alfheim. Freyr may not be the ruler of Ljossalfheim, the different elven races may have others to rule over them, but it is Freyr that speaks for them in the council of the gods in Asgard.

Like I have written in the previous post, everything changes in this realm, but Freyr's Hall is always in the same place, in fact the place itself doesn't change much. His hall is great and it is the only hall of a deity that people might come in even if Freyr isn't there. Visitors may enjoy the cosy atmosphere of Freyr's hall, be fed and rest, as long as no one breaks any rule of hospitality.

The realm of the elves may be wonderful and of such beauty that is seldom seen in any other realm, but it's lands have a bloody history. The elven folk fought against each other at some time, which ended up with two groups being split. One of the groups was forced to abandon Ljossalfheim and went south to live in the realm of the Duergar (Dwarves), there elves are so known as the Dark Alfar or Dokkalfar that live in Svartalfheim.

Ljossalfheim

Another world/realm of the Norse cosmology is Ljossalfheim, or most commonly known as Alfheim. It is located next to Asgard to the West and Southwest. This continent is known to be one of the faery realms. There have been reports from the people who do spiritual work in the many European religions, that this realm also contains other realms of the faery folk. However, it is not clear where the boundaries of each realm withing this continent are, nor is it possible to see the difference between the geography of one with another, perhaps they are all conected, but still, there are many differences between the faery folk and elven folk of the different realms. But lets keep with the realm of the Norse cosmology and its elven folk.

It seems that this realm is the one easier to travel to, if you have read and know about the Celtic tales for example, it is filled with stories about this realm, how people enter it and dwell there for a time, but when they return, unfortunately their visit to this realm has disastrous results and everything back home changes.

There aren't reports that tell us specifically how time flows in this realm, the seasons and the weather itself. It seems that in Ljossalfheim, all of these natural factors randomly change. This is a world/realm filled with magic, and everything goes acording to what the inhabitants want. So uncertain is the weather and the seasons, that in some places it might be summer and in others winter. It seems that each area of this realm has its own season, a different cycle.

It is easy for one to be lost in here, the very earth is constantly changing, not major changes, but enough to get lost and everything around seems a different place. These are the reports of the people who can travel there, it isn't something that is done often, so that is why everything seems different everytime some one returns to this realm.

There are many villages in Ljossalfheim and thousands of houses for its inhabitants. It isn't clear how the elven folk got there, because we do know that they are not native to this land unlike many other races I have spoken about here. From whatever land they came, the Aesir gave them Ljossalfheim to be their new homeland.

Working With The Gods : Tyr

Tyr is a god easy to spot, his right hand is missing, but it isn't only for that fact that you will recognize him. He wears a warrior presence, a stern but kind look and a great sword hangs on his right side by the waist. Usually he will be dressed with the dark tones of the colors of war, grey and red. Usually he also wears a cloak to cover his right arm.

He is a deity that prefers to work with male spirit-workers. This is a deity very difficult o work with, if you call upon him be certain that you know exactly what you want, because if he appears, he will be there only for a short time and then vanishes. He is a deity that goes directly to the matter, leaves you with some words of wisdom and then he is gone, it is up to you to know what to do with those words, your choice.

Usually the group of spirit-workers that gather with him, make a semi-circle in front of him, all must wear a weapon of their choice and Tyr will be there, speaking like a warchief speaks to an army. 

Working With The Gods : Bragi

I will not write about how Bragi is, that I leave for another post. Suffice to say that this post is only about working with this deity.

Bragi is a giver of inspiration, even if it is only by hearing his own tales. Bragi is actually a deity easy to talk to, very accessible. He helps those who perform the arts of music and literature, be that prose or poetry. All those who work with words, especially with speech, find Bragi to me the source of power.

Since this deity is a god of eloquence, a mediator, a diplomat, those who work with him always find his words comforting and might learn how to catch the attention of an audience, bring people together and bring peace with the power of words. Bragi is the very breath that flows through us, deep within us till our hearts.

A challenge to the "Out of Africa" Theory

Theories come and go with the evolution of the social sciences, especially with the evolution of History, Anthropology and Archaeology. This post that I am about to write is the account of a newly discovered skull with the potential to change everything we know about the human condition and evolution.

In the year of 1959 in Northern Greece in an area called Chalkidiki, which is in Petralona, a shepherd came across a small opening to a cave that became visible when the covering snow melted away. With the help of other villagers the entrance was clear and it was possible to enter and explore the cave. Like many ancient caves, this one was rich in stalactites and stalagmites. But there was inside a different kind of richness also, a human skull, embedded in the wall (later research also uncovered a huge number of fossils including pre-human species, animal hair, fossilized wood, and stone and bone tools).

The skull was given to the University of Thessaloniki in Greece. The agreement was that once the research was done, a museum would be opened featuring the findings from the Petralona cave, and the skull would be returned to be displayed in the museum.

Dr Aris Poulianos, member of the UNESCO's IUAES (International Union of Anthropological and Ethnological Sciences), later founder of the Anthropological Association of Greece, and an expert anthropologist who was working at the University of Moscow at the time, was invited by the Prime Minister of Greece to return to Greece to take a position of a University Chair in Athens. This was due to the publication of his book, ‘The Origins of the Greeks’, which provides excellent research showing that Greek people didn’t originate from the Slavic nations but were indigenous to Greece.  Upon his return to Greece, Dr Poulianos was made aware of the discovery of the skull at Petralona, and immediately started studying the Petralona cave and skull.

This skull and to whom it belonged to, came to be known as the "Petralona Man". It came be found that this skull is at least 700,000 years old, and this fact makes him the oldest human europeoid of that age ever discovered in Europe! The research also showed that the Petralona man evolved separately in Europe and was not an ancestor of a specie that came out of Africa.
In the year of 1964, some independent german researchers, by the name of Breitinger and Sickenberg, tried to dismiss Dr Poulianos’ findings, arguing that the skull was only 50,000 years old and was indeed an ancestor that came from Africa. However, research published in the US in 1971 in the prestigious Archaeology magazine, backed up the findings that the skull was indeed 700,000 years old. This was based on an analysis of the cave’s stratigraphy and the sediment in which the skull was embedded within.  Further research in the cave discovered isolated teeth and two pre-human skeletons dating back 800,000 years, as well as other fossils of various species.

Today, most academics who have analyzed the Petralona remains say that the cranium of the Archanthropus of Petralona belongs to an archaic hominid distinguished from Homo erectus, and from both the classic Neanderthals and anatomically modern humans, but showing characterists of all those species and presenting strong European traits.  A skull dating back 700,000 which is either Homo sapien or part Homo sapien is in direct conflict with the Out of Africa theory of human evolution. 

After this, further excavations continued in the same cave with the participation of international researchers of twelve separate countries, which helps to provide more proofs of Dr. Poulianos' claims. In here it was also found other remarkable findings such as fossilized pieces of wood, an oak leaf, animal hair and coprolites, which enabled accurate dating, as well as the almost continuous presence of stone and bone tools of the Archanthropus evolutionary stage, from the lower 750,000 years to the upper 550,000 years layers of sediment within the cave.

The research, after an interruption due to the dictatorship in Greece, continued up to 1983. It was then ordered by the government that all excavations at the site were forbidden to anyone, including the original archaeological team, and for 15 years nobody had access to the site or to the findings . No reason was provided by the government. Was this denial of access to prevent the extraction of whatever new scientific conclusions remained hidden within the incredible fossils embedded within the layers of the caves’ walls? After the Anthropological Society of Greece took the case to the courts, 15 years later they were again allowed access to the cave.  Since then the Ministry of Culture is trying in any way to overcome the Courts decision and further trials proceed till this day.

Dr Poulianos’ findings contradicted conventional views regarding human evolution and his research was suppressed.  Dr Poulianos and his wife were physically attacked and injured in their home in 2012 and the culprits were never been found. He and his team have been denied further access to the cave to complete their research and study, and unfortunately the whereabouts of the skull is now unknown.

Nowadays there is a sign outside the cave of Petralona stating that the skull found in the cave was 300,000 years old and on Wikipedia you will see references dismissing the evidence and trying to date the Petralona skull within acceptable parameters between 160,000 and 240,000 years old.

Recently, Professor C.G. Nicholas Mascie-Taylor of the University of Cambridge sent a letter to the Ministry of Culture in Greece saying that the correct date of the skull is 700,000 years old and not 300,000. He has also challenged the government’s suppression of information regarding this incredible discovery. 

The most important conclusion of Dr Poulianos' research regards the co-existence of all main anthropological types (African – Kobi, Asian – Beijing and European – Petralona) at the same almost period (700,000, 500,000 and 750,000 respectively). That means: the appearance of the today human main populations (races or even better phyllae - from the Greek language and that’s why polyphyletic etc) is tending to almost 1,000,000 m.y.a. and not to only 10,000 or 30,000 years as currently considered world wide. However, independently if there is a scientific dispute on the above, it is only sad to become aware that research is not allowed to those who are not coordinated to the “standard” knowledge, risking even their lives and carreer.

Princess Piki Part IV

Princess Piki Part IV


Upon arriving to the banks of the Lake Gladtló, where trees sink their feet in the deep waters, Niniär sat on the earthless ground made only out of roots that stretched far down below into the mirrored Lake. Sadness was a cruel companion, but she had her horse by her side and both rode northeast to meet the waterfalls of the river Urodum which fed the lake. As they went upwards, the lake was left behind in the valley. Wan the moon came, reflecting upon Niniär's skin, and down below the waters of the lake were so clear that mirrored the sky in all its splendor, it was unclear which one was the real roof of the world. Swans flew over it and landed on the stars. The sound of the cascade falling down into the lake broke the silent night. The roaring waters fled from the mountains in such a hurry and devastating strength that Niniär and her horse had to hasten their pace due north to find a narrower space and built their path into the other side. The crossover wasn't far off, it was where two rivers met and became one single earth's vein. Attached to Urodum was one of the streams of the widest and largest rivers of Nárlond, the Telssian River. It was here where both met, that Niniär and her horse went through. The water was only a few inches above the waist. After arriving to the other side, the two companions followed the single stream of Urodum that ran southeast to disembogue in the great inland sea of Fhör. It was an hard journey of at least one hundred and sixty miles. They constantly stopped to rest and gather food, always southwards along the eastern side of the river, for its western side broke in two and passed too close to dangerous marshes shrouded in mist, as far as the eye could see. A four day's journey to encounter the uncertain presence of anyone living near the coastal region of Fhör.

Niniär and her horse weren't hindered during their journey towards the inland sea of Fhör. They had been blessed with bright days along their road, and the chirping of birds soften their mood. Deep and in secret, Niniär's mind wandered, always doubtful and filled with uncertainty for what might be found at the road's end. The continuous pace of the horse through grass and the sound it made, cradled Niniär, but she woke up from her daydreaming as the sound changed. The ground also had changed, it was rocky, filled with dust and a redish-brown soil. From the south, sweeping across the land, a salty fragrance and the sound of surf endlessly rolling upon the beaches. Only forty miles to gallop till they could set their feet in the northern cliffs of Fhör that stretched eastwards for at least seventy miles, then breaking and sinking in a vast woodland and rising once more for another fifty miles. Of such likeness were these, reminiscent of great walls made out of clay. The waves bashing against the cliffs were like the stirring voices of thunders. The sea below reflected the sun and the beaches with golden sand glimmered. The view might be pleasant to the eye and comforting to the heart, but the rocky southern slopes near the waters of the inland sea of Fhör hid fiends of savage fury, covered with shiny scales, and the sun was deadly in the barren lands around it.

A new dawn was breaking, the grey light behind the clouds. The wind was flowing and rain from above shuffling the dirt in the ground, turning it into mud. An heavy rain fell akin to the waters of Fhör, surging, breaking and grinding. Shedding from the high heavens it tore the path that Niniär and her horse left behind, blending it with the rest of the landscape. Leaping from the soil, fragrant scents, and poor Niniär unguarded did not hear nor heeded the strange shadows coming her way, coming out of the bushes like black phantoms, winding their way in her direction. Beneath the horse's hooves the ground sunked in a muddy puddle, and the earth itself enfolded the horse and Niniär.

To be continued...


Arith Härger

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Working With The Gods : Forseti

As I have wrote who Forseti was in a previous post, I will tell you how to work with him in a spiritual way. Fortunately he is one of the Norse deities that people are able to work with and that kind of knowledge is passed down to us.

Forseti is the god of Justice of the Norse pantheon. He is the god to turn to when people are in need of justice, any kind of justice. The problem has to be exposed to Forseti and he will judge if it is a worthy one. Take in mind that he will be at the side of those who have the reason, of those who are righteous and honorable, so before you call upon him, you have to be absolutely sure that you are being wronged and that the law, truth, honor and goodwill are on your side. Also, you have to make sure that your own problem isn't yours to make amends for, if you aren't able to fix your own problem by yourself, with your own strength and the power within you, then you may call upon Forseti. 

He gives valour to those who are able to defend themselves with reason and speech, you can ask his help on that field, and not to do something for you, unless, as I have mention it, if you aren't able to do so because of reasons higher than yourself.

Forseti is also the god of fairness and equal exchange, equal rights, so you have to be sure that you are clean in the problem that you are facing.

Forseti - God Of Justice

Throughout history we see that the sence of justice among the many cultures of the world varies a lot and it has been evolving fortunately. One of the first peoples to seek justice in a reasonable way without bloodshed, where the Greeks, but it took a lot of time and effort to change an entire culture in accepting a peaceful way to do justice. But justice has been among us in many forms, not all of them had blood involved and speaking of the Norse peoples, one way to do justice without bloodshed was to ban the convicted from the society, away from any social grounds, sent to the unknown and dangerous wild world. The convicted had to rely on him/her self and couldn't come closer to any village, if the person did so, those who saw the convicted could hunt him/her, the law/rules stated that. This is actually one of the most ancient types of justice without spilling blood, ancient humans from the paleolithic  and neolithic did this.

Anyway, justice is a common thing that we all seek and all cultures had at least one deity of justice. To the Norse, that deity is Forseti. We all need justice, the world it self and nature, seeks justice.

Justice is often a feeling you are eager to "feed" because it asks for it, but you want it to calm down and be at peace, and in order to do that, you have the need to seek out that peace, you need to finish all the business, so you can go forth with your life. Nothing will please you more, then having justice done when some wrong was given to you, deep inside we all know what justice means and when to seek it, and why, but we have to think deep on it, without casting yourself in madness and anger.

Forseti is the Norse god of justice and also judgment, reconciliation and mediation. He is the son of Baldr the god of light, beauty, naivity and innocense, and his mother is Nanna. His hall is called Glitnir, the hall of justice, which I have written about in another post about the places and halls of Asgard. Unlike Tyr who is also a god of justice but turned to warfare judgments, Forseti is the god who helps in all kinds of problems dealing with the law, mutual respect, mediation, fair agreements and so on. Being able to judge and resolve problems so that both parties leave his hall satisfied.

They chose the latter, and prayed for help as they drifted. According to the story, a thirteenth man suddenly appeared on their boat with a golden axe over his shoulder. He steered the boat using his axe as a rudder and brought them to land, then split the land with his axe and a spring came forth. He identified himself as Fosite, taught them all new laws, and then vanished. The shrine was later defiled by St. Willebrord.

Historically speaking, there are some evidence that the worship of this deity came from the Persians, sea people who spread this cult to others. It is thought that there was once a shrine to Forseti on an island between Denmark and Frisia. There is a legend involving the cult of this deity and the Frisians. The Frankish king Charles Martel wanted to change the laws of the Frisians so he turned to the law-speakers of that people and forced them to conform to his laws of they would be killed or turned into slaves, but there was another option, being set adrift in a boat on the ocean. Their fate was the latter, being adrift in the ocean. These were twelve men praying for help while their way in the vast ocean was uncertain. According to the legend a thirteenth man appeared to them, on their boat, wielding a golden axe. He helped the men and brought them to land where he split the land with his great axe and a spring came forth, which the men made it a shrine to this figure who later told them that his name was Forsite, a Frisian deity. He taught them new laws and then he disappeared.

Forseti is one of the youngest deities in the Norse pantheon, all the older Aesir gods are turned to war, vengeance and magic. Forseti marks the changing of the minds of the Norse people, when reason started to come before the deadly stroke of a sword.

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The Handmaidens

When talking about Norse mythology we often heard the word "Handmaidens" refering to a female being which helps a particular deity. There are many Norse deities, male and female, who have their own Handmaidens, like Odin's Valkyries, however, there is a huge list of Handmaidens helping and working with Frigga and Freyja and so on. Little is known about the Handmaidens, not even those listed in the lore and the ones people work with through spiritual work.

It is clear that these Handmaidens prefer to work with female spiritual workers, so there is the need to have at hand female objects such as dresses, jewelry, precious stones, rings, bracelets, necklaces and such. Also if you can get any handiwork object, especially if done by yourself, the better. One of the Handmaidens we know about and how she behaves during spiritual work is Fulla. She prefers female, young and unmarried spiritual workers. The spiritual worker will probably be joining an already existing female group of other women working with Fulla.

Another Handmaiden is Eir, unlike Fulla, she is very patient and comprehensible, better to work with when dealing with spiritual problems, psycological problems and so on. She is also very simple, so this is one of the handmaidens which wearing rings and bracelets isn't required, because she is also good to work with for those who do healing spiritual works. For those who work with medicinal herbs, Eir is the one to turn to for that kind of work. She hasn't any preferences in gender, any one can work with her.

There are other Handmaidens, I have mention a lot of them in previous posts, but when it comes to spiritual work, little is known about them. For instance, people also do spiritual work with Var and Hlin, but only few things are known about these two. Or even Vor, which is more turned to spiritual workers who are into divinatory types of work. Some Handmaidens will give you a lot of knowledge, others are better to deliver a message to a specific deity.

Should have locked the door

Should have locked the door

I was six years old when I moved to the house which would be my home till my adulthood. The image of the house is still well carved upon my memory, it has not yet become a phantom in the fog, hidden within the depths of my brain. It is as clear as the very room where I'm now, writing this as fast as I can before this account disappears with me.

The floor was crooked and broken, filled with dust and sand. The cracked walls rotting away with moisture and in every corner of the living room piles of trash, pyramids of old dusty objects, garbage and dead animals. Creeping beneath our feet in the still intact floorboards, strange insects new to my eyes at that time, some were long and black with many legs, others less long but large with wings and antennae. Most of the furniture didn't existed or it was scattered in pieces all over the house. I remember that it was very bright inside the house because there were no windows, the natural light filled the gloom, but the heavy atmosphere that fell on that house was permanent, the wind from the outside wasn't able to wash it away.

My parents put a lot of effort on that house to be suitable to live in it. Lifting the floor, breaking the decaying walls, trashing all the rubbish, rebuilding it all and painting the place, buy new furniture, replacing the plumbing and so on. The house turned out to be completely different and till this day it is the coziest and most homely house I have ever been at. But I remember a little detail that it had when we first opened the door that had been closed for years. In fact, that little detail was behind of every door of the house. Bags of sand. Behind each door there were bags of sand either hanging against the door or placed on the floor. These were the last things my parents took away from the house, and we finally began our lifes in this new place that we could call our home.

The new room which I would make my own, had a large window and my bed was placed near it so I could see the stars and the branches of the trees trying to reach the sky. There used to be another window, smaller, but my parents broke it and closed the hole with cement from both sides. The door was on the oposite side of my bed, which led to the entrance hall of the house. Next to my room to the left was my parents' room, and to the right it was the bathroom. I felt so happy with our new house, so pleasent, I had my own room and I was so eager to sleep in it while the stars shone high in the deep blue curtain veiling the heavens.

Night finally came. As I was lying on the bed enjoying my new mattress, soft pillow, sheets and warm blankets with that scent of freshly cleaned fragrance, I fell asleep. But it wouldn't take long to be awoken by a shrill and annoying sound that came from the outside, endlessly becoming louder and louder. The sound came from cats, bellowing, horribly loud, as if those were screams of pain, anguish and terror of children like myself, being tortured in the dark depths of a cavernous labyrinth. I could not sleep and the wind outside made the branches of the trees swing, and instead of trying to touch the sky, those were reaching my windowsill. Twisted, wizened, wrinkled old fingers scratching the glass. I tucked my teddy bear on the bed and sat on my pillow waiting for dawn in hope that the rays of the sun would break the creeping darkness. I was so young that I was beaten by exhaustion.

I woke up all sweaty at the sound of something continuously beating like a hammer against the glass. All was in silence, so I could hear it clear. I though it was the branches of the trees against the window, but to my unfortunately realisation, it was not. I heard it, there it was again, coming from the wall where the smaller window used to be. Something was trying to get in, something that used to come by that entrance and now it was shut. The hammering sound wouldn't stop and it was becoming faster and angrier. It became unsettling and I clutching my pillow crouched against the wall, closed my eyes for a moment, only to realise that when the sound stopped, the door of my room was opened. A cold chill shook me, I have always left the door of my room opened, but that thing that was trying to enter probably figure out another way to get inside as well as I did, through the door.

I got up. I closed my hands and my mouth so that the thing couldn't hear my breath. I slowly went straight to the door, it was pitch black, but I could see the doorknob. Step by step my breath became louder, it was inevitable. I was near the door and my hand slowly reached the doorknob only to find that another hand was there. Cold, and wrinkled like the bark of a tree. My breath stopped and the breath of that thing could be heard, exactly akin to mine, I couldn't hear it before because the other thing was breathing at the same time as I did. Whatever it was, it was already inside and all my strength had faded. Still, what was left of my courage begged me to stand still. I turned my head to the side and looked up to gaze upon the thing. I still wish I hadn't done that.

There it was, towering above me, slightly taller than the door, almost six feet and seven inches, a woman, wearing a long translucent white tunic. I could see her skin of a bluish pale color, and as my eyes followed her body up till the head, my heart told me "Please stop", but I paid no heed and she was already looking towards me. Her rotting face behind long snow-white hair had no eyes, two black sockets gazing upon me and pulling me in. She had no eyes but I knew she saw me, I felt it, she was looking at me. She opened her mouth, her jaw dropped till the end of her neck and blackness was inside that hole, dragging all the air of the room, dragging me in. Her long fingers were almost upon my neck, she was about to hold me. I screamed, but not a scream of fear, I was terrified but that scream was to call my parents, they were sleeping in the next room, but no sound came from my throat. It was she who was screaming, but as her mouth dragged the air in, so was the sound swallowed by her, and my screams were covered by the hollow sound that she made, a sound reminiscent of the wind going backwards inside a cave, almost in a freezing howl.

I ran to my bed and cringed underneath the blankets. I tried not to make any kind of volume with my body so she wouldn't notice that I was inside the bed. But she knew, she saw it, she could see right through my flesh. I could feel her too, hovering above my bed, breathing slowly. I felt her hand one last time and the first rays of the sun came through the window and it was all over. I never saw her again, until today. As I am writing this in my bed, there she stands sitting on the chair, her head is slowly turning to me and I can hear her neck bones creaking. My writing comes to an end as I turn my head down to finish it. I already feel her standing behind me, her breath becomes faster and louder, her hand almost upon me, and you that read this... to you too she will haunt, look behind.

Arith Härger

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Turn Back Time

Turn Back Time

Memories... what are those? Is it the remnants of a cheerful past? The places hidden within us and where we turn to when reality is too difficult to handle? The places where we constantly dwell, but they don't give us strength to face the world, but give us confort and there is always a smile to be had. Would we live better without it? Would we be stronger if our own soul wasn't attached to happy memories? Well, I don't know about that.. but what I do know is that memories are one of the few things that no one else can touch, apart from those who have them. It is a private world where each of us take refuge, and after a long day, that is the only world that remains intact, the only world where we remain the same, uncorrupted, as if we could pick up our own essence and place it in a box, a safe place, before we get out of the door and face the ever changing world, and so do we change with it. But when we forget who we were, we can always go back and open that same door from which we got out, open the box and place in our hands that little piece of our essence and know how it feels to be...us...again..

I have thousands of little boxes with my own essence, thousands of memories that are dear to me. Whenever my only companion is loneliness, or if sadness holds me in those bitter arms, I travel to the places locked within myself, and as I lie there, all that I am now is gone, a new breath takes hold of me and I no longer feel the weight of my own body, too heavy because it was filled with everyday problems, a greasy black sludge injected in my my vains, chemicals composed by all the heavy burdens given to me, and to all of us, when we became adults and the more we age the furthest away from those memories we are. As we grow up, of course new memories will be made, happy ones with all those people that we have the luck and pleasure to share our life, our love. But the world is expecting something and we have the responsability to give whatever it may ask from us, we have to protect those we love, we have to constantly fight to survive, and those with whom we share a life are also expecting something from us. No one will protect us anymore, we are on our own, and the new memories we make as adults may be happy ones, but will be constantly haunted by the obligations and duties that we are expected to fulfil. Suffice to say that if we do not relive those happy memories, we can either go mad or be swallowed by the world and all the problems in it will crush us. 

Like any other, I have my own cheerful memories placed in a time before I became an adult, and if I could turn back time and relive one single memorie, I would choose the twenty four hours of a common day during my childhood.

My day used to begin as soon as the sun pierced the clouds, and the greyish blue light of dawn was dissolved like mist to give room to the golden rays coming through the curtains. As the sun gently touched my face, the first sounds heard were the voices of birds, but this pleasent melody was shattered by the music on the radio from my parents room. The alarm clock woke us all up in a hurry with the music from the 70's and the 80's, and I would always spring out of bed, shaking and dancing towards the bathroom to get ready for school. My mother had always something good to tell me, there wasn't a single day that she wouldn't tell me how much she loved me and that I was her prince. My father took me by the hand all the way to the school, always speaking of something that I can't remember, but the sound of his deep voice gave me strength, confidence and encouragment. A big hug he used to give me before going away.

At school the worst part was spending the time in the classroom, my teacher was very harsh, she screamed a lot and whenever one of us didn't knew about whatever she could ask or if she found a gramatical error in one of our written compositions, her hand would always fall upon us, more than once. Luckly for me, I always knew how to answer her questions and I'm proud to say that I was one of the very few that felt the weight of her hand in my face just twice in those long four years. More than enough, that red hot heat in my face reminded me that I had to study. Apart from those unfortunate events, I had a lot of fun doing handicrafts, because reading, writing, math, geography, history and so on, was quite boring... but nowadays it doesn't seem that bad..

Strange as it seems, I had friends, and during playtime we were always making huts with fortifications, each one of us had a job, some were soldiers, others were builders, there were also the gatherers, the crafters and the diplomats. Each hut was competing against other huts, attacks had to be made to pillage and take with us all of those who had been conquered to reinforce our clan. My task was simple, I was always disguised as a diplomat, spending my time with all the clans, among them, giving indications, helping, organizing, but in truth I was a spy, a pretty good one as a matter of fact. No other clan had spies, this was my own idea, finding the password to enter each of the huts, get to know the weaknesses of each and lie to all about the intentions of a clan towards another and concocting a war. Oh... I had so much fun watching them all fighting against one another, but sitting there and not be part of the battle wasn't for me. I had to join the fight always, and previously, because I had been the diplomat of all the clans, no one really knew in which side I was on, nor did it matter, we were just children fighting against each other.

The best part of the day was the journey back home in the afternoon during Autumn. Passing the houses with towers, up the hill I went with one of my parents, or sometimes alone. The ground was filled with leaves and tiny puddles of water, the grass was green and wet with a fragrance of rain over earth. The trees were tall and large and the fiery dusk sky reflected its colors upon the leaves of the trees. On the top of the hill I could see the church's bell tower, standing out from the top of the trees and below the ever green gardens. Everytime I set my eyes upon that chuch or heard the perpetual sound of the bell anouncing the time, my mind was eased, not because I was a religious child, I couldn't care less about such subjects, but the reason was that the church was a sign that my home was near, the place were I was protected against anything, were all the troubles that a young child things he has, would stay outside, away from the cosy homely ambience.

Upon arriving home, my parents were there to welcome me, and there was nothing else to trouble my mind because the world of the grown ups was far off. If there was any unpleasant situation, my parents were there to set things right, they were wise, tall and strong and they ensured the safety of our lair. My task in the house was to play and be happy... oh and of course taking a bath before that. You may think that we children will do anything to avoid bathtime, whatever we might have done to get away from the water, be sure that once in there, the hard thing was getting us out. For me that was a magical moment. The last rays of the sun shined golden through the leaves and came in like spears of light. While taking a bath it was a joyful moment watching the colors of the world changing. At twilight it seemed that the roof of the world was veiled by a purple tunic, and my parents turned off the lights and the bathroom welcomed the celebrations of the sky and it was all reflected upon the walls of white tile.

I spent the last moments of my day sitting on the bed, comfortable and cozy with warm blanket, with a soft pillow between me and the wall, as my parents sat there around me with a big book of three hundred and sixty five stories in it. One story each night for the entire year. The best ones were those during Autumn. The animals in the stories would always take shelter in their burrows to avoid the Autumn rains and the rolling thunders, and I felt like one of those characters because I could see outside the wind blowing against my window, the trees tottering and the leaves dancing, the heavy rain knocking on the glass. I wasn't outside, I was one the oposite side, in my own burrow, my warm bed with my parents taking care of me, such a cosy and pleasent memorie. This memorie remains undefiled, no one can rip it to shreds, it is unique and unbreakable. This memorie is carved within me, the only way to reach it is by closing my eyes, pretending that I am there again and relive those moments, constantly thinking about them so I may not forget the tiniest detail. I don't want to imagine if by sickness or age I may forget all about this, because if it happens, I lose who I am, I lose those magic moments forever and I cease to exist as a being with a background story that made me what I am today. Without those memories I am hollow, a rotten husk.

It might be selfish to think that these are the only good memories and that the people that are at our side during the rest of our lives won't give us other equally good memories. Of course that isn't true, but the childhood memories are our own, not shared with anyone else, only we know how it felt, and those are the memories where inocence, naivity and the sense that the world is a safe place, still lie. I truly hope that when I have my own children, I can give them a life as great as my parents gave me. It will be through my children that I will relive these wonderful times by giving them the same or better childhood memories.


Arith Härger


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Asgard - Home Of The Aesir - 9th Part

This is the last part of Asgard (finally) and the places of great importance.

Breidablik

The hall of  the deities Baldr/Baldur and of Nanna his wife, was called Breidablik and it was given to them as a wedding gift. As you know, Baldr was killed and Nanna comited suicide after this tragic event, as such the goddess Frigga sealed all the entrances to the Hall so it might stay as it was by the time Baldr and Nanna lived there. No one is allowed to enter it and it is guarded to keep away anyone who tries to go in.

Landvidi

This is the hall of the god Vidar, which is one of the Norse deities that is seldom heard. Landvidi is where he lives with his mother called Grid. She is one of Odin's lovers, it was she who gave Thor his magical iron gloves and his famous belt of strength. Like some of the halls in Asgard, the name Landvidi also refers to the land around the Hall. A place with deep green woods, tall trees with permanent leaves the entire year and vast fields with tall grass.

Glitnir

The hall of Forseti the god of justice is called Glitnir. This hall is seen from a great distance, not because it is a large hall, but because the roof as the color of silver and it shines like a lighthouse, the porch pillars are made out of gold with beautiful carvings. Forseti is the son of Baldr and Nanna and he is the god of not only justice but also laws, arbitration, judgment, oaths, honor and alliances. If there is any kind of conflict, or law breaking or anyother thing concerning such subjects, the problems are brought to his hall, because it is here that peaceful solutions can be arranged to avoid bloodshed.
Every kind of problem that is fit to have judgement, can be presented in the court of Forseti's hall, even if it is a grievance between a mortal and a deity.

Brimir

In Asgard there is a land called Gimle which has a large lake, and right at the center of the lake there is an island called Okolnir which has a hall called Brimir. This hall might seem empty, but in it lives the giant with the same name of the hall, who won the land in a game of chance with Odin. It was Brimir who built the hall after he won the land, or at least the island.

Gimle

 As mentioned above, in the land called Gimle, there is also an Hall with the same name. It is devoided of any denizens.

Isle of Counsel

The name of this island is unknown, at least for me, but this place lies where the Thund Thvitr river meets the ocean. In the small island lives a mortal man (or once mortal) called Hildolf, who has his own hall in this island. For some reason, many of the Einherjar come here to visit him, so he must be a man of great importance, and to own a hall in Asgard, he must really be of great importance to Odin himself.

Urdabrunnr 

Beyond the forests of Ydalir and passing the small mountain range, there lies a great mountain which is in fact one of the roots of Yggdrasil, covered with small trees which are actually the sprouts of the root, this creates a large grove.
Below the curve of the great root, lies Urdabrunnr, the well of fate. A large spring with bubbling water which feeds the root of the world tree. Near the well its keepers live there and guard it, the Norns.
Beyond the great root and the spring there is a small hall called The Hall of Fate. No one has ever got in, only those who work with the Norns.