Adorations & Devotionals, Bragiteilen's Public Journal, History, Culture & Worship, Worship

Adorations for Skaði (Skadi) of the Hills Beyond the Shroud

take care to walk in silence by Jenna Barton dappermouth on tumblr
take care to walk in silence. by Jenna Barton

Sifter through the drifting white;
fallen snow untrampled, untroubled
‘neath the shoes of winter’s bones;
upright, a straight back, a proud face;
a shrouding mist and ghostlike sheen
upon such a face, though her cheeks flush, as ever,
so exhilarated a crimson flush.
Skaði is the name of one who roams
those hills beyond the shroud,
and ever in her oneness shall she be
the untrampled, the untroubled;
against the temperate breeze does she forsake a warmer wading
and embrace the biting winds
of so harsh and transfixing a frozen sky.
How my heart thaws within her glow;
how my lungs sing so unbridled in her heavens.
How my spirit reaches outward, rejoicing,
when it finds her guiding hands.

© Alixander F. D. Bragiteilen and, 2018. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Alixander F. D. Bragiteilen and with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
Bragiteilen's Public Journal, History, Culture & Worship, Worship, Worship Practices

Hanging Paintings

Some days for me are characterized by the sheer power of my desire to pray. It often doesn’t matter if the god in question, which is almost always Bragi, doesn’t respond; it’s comforting enough to know that he hears my adoration and acknowledges it as he has always done before. A series of “I love you”s repeated like an incantation can allow me to fall asleep.

IMG_9691I think maybe one other person knows that my shrine is built on top of a personal fridge. It’s not some deep dark secret, but I like being able to maximize the space available to me for utilitarian purposes as much as possible. I am by no means a minimalist when it comes to decorating my space, but multipurpose furniture and tools make me happy. Perhaps the reason why they do is that I constantly find myself running out of room. But I digress… Continue reading “Hanging Paintings”

Bragiteilen's Public Journal

The Mountain Also Rots: Part i.

working cover wattpad

“In the midst of the solstice festival of a city nestled in the mountains, far above the rancid debauchery of the rotter country down below, the two young lovers Amarin and Levenus are set suddenly adrift across an unfamiliar land, their households and everything they knew torn apart by the memory of a mother and the truth she kept hidden.”


In my memory, there is a girl constantly looking over her shoulder. She has not eaten in two days. If I focus hard enough, I can feel the blisters on her feet as she runs as swiftly as her legs will carry her, keeping pace with her thundering heart even after the point when those legs should have given out.

Continue reading —>

© Alixander F. D. Bragiteilen and, 2018. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Alixander F. D. Bragiteilen and with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
Bragiteilen's Public Journal, History, Culture & Worship, Relationships Between Gods and Mortals, The Gods, War Gods, Wisdom Gods, Worship

Mental Illness and the Real Benefits of Faith in the Gods

Thor und die Midgardsschlange, Emil Doepler

Continue reading “Mental Illness and the Real Benefits of Faith in the Gods”

Bragiteilen's Public Journal

Jarl Gilduin, Harasser of Frenchmen

(This will be an extremely short post since it’s only here because I think it’s funny.)


My 33rd great grandfather, Gilduin “The Dane” of Saumur, was a jarl/Viking chieftan in Denmark before coming to France, and his only recorded claim to fame (in a really old and untranslated French history book) is that he, Friar Bob, and Conan the Barbarian jostled some guy for his castles because their boss Count Odo told them to.

Odo went on to build some more castles to bother Fulk The Ill-Tempered even more, and eventually some of Gilduin’s descendants lived in the one at Chaumont.

(Also, another one of Gilduin’s descendants was James Monroe, but I’m not nearly as excited about being distant cousins with a plantation-owner whose bucket list included being a politician and owning an even bigger plantation.)

Adorations & Devotionals, Bragiteilen's Public Journal, History, Culture & Worship, Worship, Worship Practices

My Formal Oath to Bragi

‘Bragi, I come before you on this spring evening, when the warmth beyond my window nearly mirrors the warmth in my heart. I come before you lucid and tranquil. I come before you without fear, and invite you to share a drink with me and take in the same Jasmine scent that I do now.

‘Skillful Bragi, discerning Bragi, Bragi of a most mindful presence: For every candle I have lit in your honor, you have reflected its light back to me a hundred times. For every meal shared, for every prayer offered, for every pile of incense ashes I’ve collected for you, you have let me taste sweeter things, let me hear lovelier words, and let me breathe more heady fumes. Word weaver and music maker, dweller in libraries and auditoriums alike: you have hastened my learning and bolstered my happiness, and therefore you have also given me precious moments in which to chase even greater knowledge and pleasure. That is a debt which I cannot hope to fully repay, so I will give you the next best thing. Please hear me now as I offer you the greatest gift I have to give.

‘Bragi my mentor, Bragi my friend: From this moment on, my body will be your temple, my hands shall manifest your will. My soul is a garden that grows many fruits for you to eat, a brimming cup from which you can drink, and a bed upon which you can rest. Give me a portion of your time, and partake of what little is mine. If by giving myself to you I can shorten the distance between us, then I do it gladly. Hear this, Bragi, my declaration: What is mine is now also yours, and so shall it be until the day when, by my own death or by your goodbye, I have fulfilled my oath.’

Bragiteilen Oath to Bragi

I finally made my formal oath to Bragi tonight, and completely by accident, I chose the best time for it. I sat on the porch where the incense would be out of the wind and stay lit, and I recited my oath from the sheet of paper I’d printed out, and after that it started to drizzle, and then it started storming. I sat counting the thunderclaps after each lightning strike, and I didn’t feel any different.

Five, six, ten, five, four, five, six, five, ten, and three.

There was no sudden overwhelming sense of duty and there was no regret. It was just me, Bragi, some incense and a cup of water, and Þórr off in the not-at-all-distant sky riding his chariot, first one mile away, then a bit further, then two miles away, then one again, and less than that, and then one and more, and one and two, and then the last lightning strike that touched down near my house before I went inside was just a little more than half a mile away.

I’ve been living as if I was already oathed to Bragi, and in a sort of roundabout way, I may actually have been. I took his name, and there are a lot of people who would say that doing that was as good as making a formal oath, but I wasn’t sure. I knew that I wanted to do it more formally anyway.

I feel calm, with a pleasant buzzing inside my head shaking apart any thoughts that aren’t easy to think. I feel warm and loved. Overall, this went exactly as I hoped it would.

© Alixander F. D. Bragiteilen and, 2018. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Alixander F. D. Bragiteilen and with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
Bragiteilen's Public Journal

Some Vintage Flea Market Finds

  1. Guys being dudes in 1922, getting tired and gq uitting school like all other boys your age and wondering what old santy brought your Dearest. Friend.
  2. A flyer announcing that Angela Davis and Gus Hall will speak at Cobo Hall (now Cobo Center) in Detroit on the topics of capitalism and racism.
  3. Goats on a greeting card, eating tender leaves.
  4. A copy of Idylls of the King so old that it has no publication date displayed within the book.
Bragiteilen's Public Journal

If You Do Not Value Your Own Life, Then The Value You Assign to Any Life At All is Not Enough. (Alternatively: I Can’t Make You Drink, But I’ll Keep Filling Your Cup Anyway.)

Amber, Re° on Pixiv

Last night, I was watching a tv show on with a friend of mine, and somehow we fell down two different ends of a rabbit hole conversation, and when we met in the center, all I found was indifference and a lot of frustration. I’ve known for a bit that his philosophy on life is apathetic, self-destructive, and ultimately suicidal, but until last night, I never realized just how aggressively so it was.

I told him it was hypocritical, and I found it impossible at the time to find the words to explain why that was, It was very difficult to tell him why he should value his own existence without making mention of other people’s feelings. I don’t want him to think of other people when he thinks of this. I want him to consider his own life and nothing else.

This afternoon, I found the words to explain. They were late to arrive, but I may as well post them. If I could go back to last night and tell him just one more thing, this is what I would say:

Value your own life as you do the lives of others. If you take from yourself, give to yourself something equally as valuable as what you took. To not treasure the person you know best, whose body bears you through every day and whose joy and agony you feel more intensely than anyone else’s, is to short-change all life in each and every individual appraisal you give it.

Basically, if you care about existence in any form, your own has to be included in that. You cannot experience anything as fully as it deserves to be experienced, and as fully as you deserve to appreciate it, if you don’t also appreciate yourself enough to live to experience it.

© Alixander F. D. Bragiteilen and, 2018. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Alixander F. D. Bragiteilen and with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
Bragiteilen's Public Journal

Super Scholar Mode (Bragiteilen’s Not-So-Private Journal)


Today is day two of my super scholar week, and I just realized that I might be incapable of being a “casual reader,” or, at the very least, I find it very difficult to be. If I don’t have time to devote my full attention to analyzing and taking notes as I read, I just don’t read at all. Even reading nonsense on the tumbloid, I find it really difficult to disengage from the “analyze and critique” mindset. Moreover, I don’t really see how it would be more beneficial to do so than to let that mindset just be.

I also find that eloquence comes much more naturally to me now, and I’m more aware of the connotations of every word I employ in making any point. I’ve become a scholar down to my very bone marrow, and you know what? I’m happy that way. It’s what I’ve always wanted. Whatever I’ve sacrificed to achieve this, the benefits no doubt far outweigh what I lose.

I woke up this morning and realized that I’d been doing peer reviews of my own half-asleep nonsense thoughts and demanding citations and evidence for things that were really just barely-conscious opinions (no doubt the residue of yesterday’s hyper-focused studying) and that was slightly annoying, but after that, I found myself unable to lie in bed for another couple minutes like I normally would, because that would have been “wasting time” I could be spending learning new things, and I think overall this is something that’s going to help me meet my own expectations for myself, and so it’s something I want to cultivate and be proud of.

The end.

Bragiteilen's Public Journal, U/SPG (Unverified/Shared Personal Gnosis), War Gods, Wisdom Gods

Musings on Óðinn/Odin

Since I went back to adhering to Germanic Heathenry in 2017, I’ve maintained a distrust of Óðinn because of the many historical instances of his own worshipers calling him “treacherous” or “deceitful,” or otherwise untrustworthy. I’ve kept my distance out of fear until today, but now, I’m thinking that I may have been too quick to judge him. Upon reading these parts of the Havamal, it seems like Óðinn regrets his cruelty towards Gunnlöð:

Stanza 104:

From her golden throne, Gunnlod gave to me
A drink of the glorious mead;
But a poor reward I gave her in return
For her true heart and troubled spirit.

Stanza 108:

I doubt that I would have come home
From the realms of the Giants,
Had I not been helped by Gunnlod,
Whose arms had been around me.

Stanza 110:

Odin swore and oath on a ring;
Who can trust his troth now?
He took drink at Suttung’s table, and betrayed him:
He left Gunnlod in grief.

Before and after these passages, he expresses scorn for women’s deceit, but never for women who are faithful to their word.

So, this is my apology to Óðinn.

Wise god, I was wrong to judge you so quickly when I’ve never known you myself and the bulk of what I’ve heard about your was what others long before my time had to say, and I also recognize that their opinions may have been tainted by the bitterness of admitting defeat after fighting long and hard. I don’t think it’s likely that you’ve done a complete one-eighty since then, but out of respect for you as a god and as a person, I won’t allow other people’s words to color the lens through which I view you anymore.