Hello! I’ve been recovering from surgery for the past week, and if all goes as planned, the bandages will be taken off tomorrow. In light of this, I’ve written some galdr to help my healing be smooth and quick. Here it is:
My Body is No Burden: Galdr for Physical Healing
Monday, December 10, 2018
The lacerations on my skin Shall leave and make no tracks; The scars cannot seep in. The pain in my flesh Shall be pared to its bones, And my bones will not bear it. My body shall not be my burden.
Anyone is free to cast for themselves any galdr I post, so if you’re in need of a healing spell, go nuts. It’s made to be used.
A while ago I wrote a post on what galdr is, and I’ve also posted some of my own galdr, along with a photo of my own distaff. This post is on how to compose galdr using specifically the “meter of magic spells,” called galdralag. It’s entirely possible that galdr does not need to be written using this meter, but I personally find that the structure helps.
Before you can begin composing “real” galdr, you must first decide whether or not to employ galdralag and a tune in your poetry and its vocalization. Due to the uncertainty of the nature of the use of galdralag and the uncertainty as to whether melodic chanting was used at all, I cannot tell you whether you should use these things or not, as that is a decision that will vary from person to person depending on their conceptions of risk versus reward, ease of use, and aesthetics, among other things that don’t really need to be listed here. I can tell you though that you might want to compose a few practice spells, some employing galdralag and some not, and then similarly chant them using a tune sometimes, and other times not, so that you can get a feel for the meter and musicality yourself and make it easier for you to decide on your methods.
Please note that this work is subject to updates and that the most recently updated version will always be the document in my google drive linked to on my Resources page. Please also note that you should not accept any of this at face value and always research any of the information I make available yourself. This is intended to be a simple reference and jumping-off point.
As far as I know, the term “godphone” came about as a reaction to the casual way in which many adherents to resurrected polytheistic religions talk about their communications with the gods. I can understand the reaction. It does take somewhat of a paradigm shift to go from purely secular thought to being able to swallow the idea of the gods in a modern setting, talking to living people now.
That said, I disagree with the idea that the casualness is silly, and that is because the Germanic and Norse gods, whether in folklore or the voice in my and other worshipers’ minds, are real-time experiences. They are hardly ever formal in folklore, even though the speaking style of people recorded long ago may make it seem that way, and in the same folklore, they are also wont to acting impulsively. The term “godphone” is based on the assumption that the gods are trapped in a time gone by, having not grown and changed with mortals, and are incapable of speaking to us in our modern dialects and as spontaneously as we speak to them.
When in the spring I began to walk, I encountered you, O Dellingr–
you, who was quiet, and tranquil, and who lifted the sun just above the lake
that sparkled with your light’s reflection. O Dellingr! I met you in the spring
and parted with you in the winter cold, and oh how I’ve missed you…!
I have longed to meet you again at the lakeside where I sat
and was soothed by the birdsong
and looked upon the shining waters
and became enraptured by the love I felt in my own heart
before you gave Dagr his reins and sent him to his mother.
O gentle god, O light reborn, O third lover and day-maker,
will you sit with me again?
Here at the lakeside,
will you fill my lungs with reverent words
and caress my cheek with your most calming breeze?
O dayspring, O Dellingr, please enchant me here,
and over and over,
and when I fall from the sight of this world,
let me fall upon a lakeside knoll
and sit with you again.
My Endurance Brings a Bounty: Galdr to Harvest the Good I Have Sown Monday, April 23, 2018
I have built with broken bones, I have bent what simply breaks. Skin to center, I have forged myself from steel. And steel may melt and coil and collapse, But I have befriended the dawn, the day, the dusk; The flames of Sól are the feathers of my wings And my courage frightens fear, And my words give form to force, And now the phantasms of every wish I have kept are given flesh. Witness my rise, and if I seem to fall, watch me closer; my flight is far from finished.
(Note: I base this praise off of Saxo’s writings on Balderus and on my own UPG.)
Baldr, who shines like the sun and even more beautifully, please hear now my adoration for you:
If the mortal whose loss in love and miserable end made him a god most beloved is called Baldr, then the road to Love is called Loneliness, the road to Redemption is called Sacrifice, and the road to Life is called Death.
Baldr of beautiful things, of gentle encouragement, of kindness, of warm and unconditional love: You are an inspiration to me, and more than that, you are the picture of a love that I want to embody and to give and receive. If beauty is Baldr’s domain, then nobody who truly knows him could ever mistake him for being anything less than absolutely selfless, for beauty exists in every corner of the world–in every flower and every weed, in every innocent smile and every set of snarling fangs, in every noisy crowd and every gentle song, and even in every thing that is ever called “ugly,” because most importantly, beauty exists in the eye of the beholder. Beauty is Baldr’s gift to those who know him, but also to those who do not, and so Baldr is kind and giving and a believer in the fundamental goodness of humanity.
To honor you, Baldr, I promise to give often, to love selflessly, and to strive for all that you embody.
Praise be to Baldr, who shines like the sun and even more brilliantly. May his gifts never go unnoticed, may his sacrifices never go unappreciated, and may his kindness inspire the whole world.
Hail Loki, whose flame-red hair appears for
but a moment where there are tricks to be found.
Loki, with sharp tongue and nimble toes,
let us be swift and sure in our dealings.
Let us be strong as the children you begot;
mighty as Fenrisúlfr, resolute as Hel, and awe-inspiring as Jǫrmungandr.
Loki of quick wit, who weaves truth through lies,
none can best you in a contest of cleverness.
Wherever we go, may you hold the mirror in which
we see you in ourselves, cunning and lively.
Hail Loki, who is never far, and ever a playfully flickering light in the dark.
May you find entertainment in the strife for all your days.
I wanted to say this just because it was on my mind for a bit today:
If you’re like me and have a tendency to over-specify what you’re asking for in prayers to the gods out of fear of repercussions that might stem from unspecificity*, know this:
The gods are wise. They are very wise, and they can tell what it is you’re asking for even if you don’t specify the extraneous minutia of everything. If you have their favor, you will receive it. If they are determined to cause you to suffer or to twist your words to excuse such a thing, they will find a way to do just that. All you can do is offer your prayer, and with everything I just said being true, it is better to focus on whether or not your prayer is heartfelt rather than whether or not it is specific enough for a trickster robot genie to understand.
When in the early sixteenth century Michelangelo painted one of his greatest masterpieces, The Creation of Adam, the general concept of a man touching the hand of god was seen as a much loftier goal than it was to the pagan Romans of not much more than a thousand years before he was born. As far back as in the city of Eridu in Ancient Mesopotamia, and eventually slowing to a halt starting in Southern Europe, history has recorded the ordinary and the supernatural simultaneously, on the same pages and in the same sort of language. To the historians of yesteryear, and more importantly, to the common person, there was very little separation, if any, between the menial tasks of daily life and the divine interference of the gods, for the gods were present in all things. The loss of that presence is the reason for much of the loneliness experienced by modern polytheists, and it is something I have finally found the words with which to provide the solution.
As Ralph Metzner has stated, the separation of ordinary life from contact with the divine is a “loss [that] resulted from the gradually increasing emphasis, started by the Greeks and continued with Christianity, on abstract conceptions of deity rather than on the direct, sensory perception of and communication with spirits that was the norm in polytheistic animism.” Today, even with the reemergence of ancient polytheistic religions like Hellenic Polytheism, Religio Romana, Kemetism, and Germanic and Norse Heathenry, the West has yet to recover its old comfort with dining at the same table as the gods, among other things, and the religious “reemergences” I just mentioned are, for the most part, vague approximations at best, hampered by a worldview that dulls the senses which reveal the divine to mankind.
If humankind had retained regular contact with the divine and not grown the mental barriers between us and them that it has, we might today find the presence of many gods in the discovery of a parking ticket on the window shield of a car, in the modern understanding of GMOs, or even, as ridiculous as it sounds, in a toilet cleaner bomb. These things are simply the modern descendants of what the old gods once held dominion over. Finding Týr in a parking ticket today is conceptually no different than a person from a distant age finding him at The Thing, an ancient Norse gathering that occurred regularly to discuss the business of laying down and enforcing the law of the land.
Just Þórr, mighty Þórr, quick to dole out justice,
Red-Bearded One, Hammer-Wielder with far-reaching renown,
we know you are near when the thunder comes rumbling through,
when we hear the goats run and the giants fall,
felled by a mighty swing of Mjǫllnir, grasped by strong hands.
Cowering victims do you make into champions by leading the way,
and fearful trembles become boisterous laughter.
May those who wrong you always fall to their knees in defeat,
brought low by the strength of your body and heart,
and as we honor you, may our foes be struck down as well.
Hail the just! Hail the righteous! Hail Þórr!
Mighty Þórr, whose powerful hands wield Mjǫllnir,
whose thirst lowered oceans, whose brawn lifted Jǫrmungandr,
you are the strength of our bones, the thickness of our skin,
the bite behind our bark, and the will to push on.
Kind Þórr, your compassion knows no bounds.
With a light heart do you best evil in all its forms.
Help us to find the courage to defeat our foes,
be they in the mind or on the earth.
Bring us a spirit to match yours, O Þórr,
so that we may hold our heads high when life beats us down.
Good-hearted god, lead the way and we will follow,
singing your praises wherever we may go.