Norse Goddess Magic (6 page)
5
A Visit to Fensalir
An Example of Trancework
What follows is an example of one of my trancesâthe induction,
the journey itself, and the return. This is not intended to be taken as the only
way, or even the best way, to enter a trance; it just represents one method that
happens to work for me. I have developed this pattern over several years by
trial and error, trying out various methods as I learned about them and
discarding those that didn't work for me. Anyone who decides to attempt
tranceworking should sample the different methods and include in her repertoire
those that seem best for her, as well as any other symbols and actions that are
personally meaningful.
I am lying in my bed in my girlhood bedroom in my parents'
house. I relax my body and breathe regularly and rhythmically, in and out, and
feel myself in my body in that bed, feel the mattress and sheets underneath me,
feel the familiar furniture around me in the background.
When I am fairly relaxed and fully conscious of being in
that room, I open my eyes and rise, walk toward my closet, slide open the door,
and reach down and pull up the trapdoor in the floor of the closet. I turn and
climb down the five ladderlike steps leading into the crawl space beneath the
house and begin to crawl through the darkness on my hands and knees. Finally, I
come to a soft, white feather bed covered with a fine white muslin sheet. I lie
down on the bed on my back and pull the sheet up over my face.
I begin to breathe regularly, in and out, in and out, and
soon begin to feel myself floating slowly and gently downward, rocking slightly
to and fro, and my bed, my sheet, my body, and the air all around me are light
and clean and white, like laundry just brought in from hanging in the sunlight.
And as I breathe in and out, I change the color of my bed, my sheet, and my body
to red, the color of a ripe apple, and the air all around me is also red as I
float farther down and down. And as I breathe in and out, I change the color of
my bed, my sheet, and my body to orange, the color of a ripe orange, and the air
all around me is also orange as I float farther down and down. And as I breathe
in and out, I change the color of my bed, my sheet, and my body to yellow, the
color of a lemon, and the air all around me is also yellow as I float farther
down and down. And as I breathe in and out, I change the color of my bed, my
sheet, and my body to green, the color of new grass, and the air all around me
is also green as I float farther down and down. And as I breathe in and out, I
change the color of my bed, my sheet, and my body to blue, the color of the sky
on a clear summer day, and the air all around me is also blue as I float farther
down and down. And as I breathe in and out, I change the color of my bed, my
sheet, and my body to indigo, the color of a piece of lapus lazuli, and the air
all around me is also indigo as I float farther down and down. And as I breathe
in and out, I change the color of my bed, my sheet, and my body to violet, the
color of grape juice, and the air all around me is also violet as I float
farther down and down.
And now I softly and gently feel myself reaching the
ground again, and the bed, the sheet, my body, and the air all around me are now
a soft, warm, enveloping black. I pull the sheet off my face, sit, and rise up
from my feather bed, walking slowly in the dimness. I soon see a flight of stone
stairs with a smooth wooden bannister, winding clockwise and downward. I begin
to walk down these stairs, holding on to the rail and breathing regularly in and
out, counting backward one number at each step, beginning with ten and ending
with one.
When I reach the bottom I find myself in a large hallway
lit with many candles, which are set in sconces along the walls. There are many
doors and passageways branching off in all directions. I know where some of
these lead, but others are strange to me. I walk along until I reach the door
I'm seeking. It is a small wooden door with a rounded top, the kind found in
fairy-tale cottages. I open it and walk through the doorway. I walk along
a short, dim passage and down several short steps to arrive at a subterranean
stream that runs through an underground passage. Here there is a dock to which
is tied a small wooden rowboat.
I untie the ropes holding the boat to the dock, lie down
inside the craft, and soon begin to float, feetfirst, through the dark
underground tunnel carved through walls of rock. I travel gradually upward and
to the right. Eventually I emerge from the tunnel, floating on an open stream.
As I travel on, I pass a changing landscape of lovely meadows and fields and
forests. My boat finally drifts to the bank lying to my left and stops. I rise
and get out of the boat.
Here I find Sleipnir, the eight-legged horse of Odin the
Allfather, saddled and waiting for me. He can travel through all the Nine Worlds
and has come to guide me on my journey to Asgard. He is a dappled gray, the
color of smoke, and he looks somewhat whimsical with so many legs, and very
friendly and gentle. I climb onto his back with no difficulty and we gallop away
together. As I ride, the sound of Sleipnir's eight hooves sound like drumbeats.
We travel over fields and forests and all the lands of the earth, journeying
northward. We then pass over raging rivers into Jotunheim, the land of
etins, or giants. Here we travel through a dense and dark forest and then
over endless barren plains.
We finally reach the flaming colors of Bifrost, the
rainbow bridge, and Sleipnir gallops across it without hesitation. Heimdall the
Watcher hails me silently from his home in the distance. Passing over the
bridge, Sleipnir continues at a more moderate pace, and I see the homes of
Asgard, many fine houses surrounded by gardens, courtyards, and fields. Ahead in
the distance I see the broad halls of Valhalla, recognizable by its roof of
gleaming golden shields and its many wide doors.
Sleipnir halts in front of one of the entrances, and I
dismount and enter the hall, where I see all the heroes feasting, laughing,
singing, and generally carousing and enjoying themselves. Up on the dais in the
high-seat I see Odin with his ravens perched on the back of his chair, or on his
shoulders, and his wolves lying at his feet. He surveys the hall with pride and
sober content but is not making much of a racket himself. There are servants,
Valkyries, and heroes all over the place, swarming to and fro on various
business.
Standing by a side door I see a woman and know that she is
Frigg, Odin's wife and the mistress of Asgard. The realization comes to me that
she has planned much of the food and entertainment I have just witnessed.
She beckons me to come with her. I follow her outside and across a courtyard or
garden in which there are flowers, various trees, and a fountain with splashing
water. Soon we arrive at a square-shaped, low-roofed stone house; this is
Fensalir, Frigg's home. The grounds surrounding this dwelling are very quiet
after the noise of Valhalla. There is an air of peace, order, and rightness.
We enter by a side or back door, and I see that the inside
of the building is made of cool stone and marble and looks much larger than the
outside led me to believe. There is a stone pool in the center of the spacious
hall and an array of seats, nooks, and alcoves in which women sit working on
various projects or talking quietly. From this central hall there are many doors
and hallways leading out to other parts of Fensalir, where these women live with
Frigg. They are her women, her attendants, but it is more like a women's
college.
Frigg sits in a large, comfortable chair in one area of
the room and talks to me. She is of medium stature, with light-brown hair done
up in an intricate braided coronet, and she wears blue-gray and white clothing
that is both simple and utterly elegant. Her tiny touches of jewelry,
embroidery, and other ornamentation are exquisite and subtle. Her eyes are
blue-gray and deep-set, very mild and kind, and yet piercing. Her face has
strong lines, high cheekbones, and a strong chin. She has a ring of golden keys
at her waist and wears assorted small knives, needles, and other domestic
implements, which hang from chains from various brooches on her garments.
Around her chair are pieces of needlework, spinning,
papers and books, baskets, and all sorts of handiwork and knickknacks. The room
is very clean and neat. Nevertheless, it is filled with bits of projects and
pieces of partly finished work lying here and there, left by Frigg or her
attendants, for they are always doing something here. There is a fireplace or
hearth with a gentle fire in it and some tea or soup or something cooking over
it in a covered kettle. Frigg washes my hands and face with some water and combs
my hair while talking or singing to me, or sometimes just being quiet. I sit at
her feet and lean my head against her lap. Her presence is very comforting and
loving, very motherly. Finally, she sees me out the door and points me to where
Sleipnir waits near an entrance to the garden; I do not reenter Valhalla. As I
ride away, Frigg waves from her doorway.
I return the way I came, riding on Sleipnir over the wilds
of Jotunheim and the fields of Midgard, floating in my boat back to the rocky
passage that leads underground, walking back through the halls and back up the
stone stairs to where my feather bed lies. I lie on it again, cover myself with
the black sheet, and float rather quickly, and yet gently, up through the violet
air, and the indigo air, and the blue air, and the green air, and the yellow
air, and the orange air, and the red air until I am lying once more under a
white sheet. I leave the bed and crawl back underneath the house until I arrive
at the trapdoor, and climb the stairs, close the trapdoor, slide the closet door
shut, cross the room, and lie back down in my bed. I breathe regularly, in and
out, and feel my body in the bed in my parents' home. But as I breathe I begin
to feel my body lying on the floor and hear the sounds in the home I live in
now, and smell the smells in that home, and feel myself breathing in my body,
now, today, and when I feel myself to be fully back, I open my eyes and sit up.
6
Challenges of Tranceworking
Tranceworking and astral travel are considered to be dangerous
by some, unless done with proper training and supervision. While I do not think
tranceworking is necessarily dangerous, there are a number of cautions and
safeguards that should be taken into consideration.
Tranceworking is an activity that is best attempted after one has had some
experience with other forms of ritual and magic. You should at least be
competent in some sort of basic circle-casting ritual and should always do your
trances within the protection of a sacred space. It is also helpful to have
practiced visualization exercises, since trances are dependent on one's powers
of visualization and imagination. Dreams are very similar to trances; thus any
kind of dreamwork is good practice, particularly lucid dreaming, where you are
aware that you are dreaming and can guide the action of the dream but still
remain in the dream state. The ability to control and shape your dreams is also
useful when you're on a trance journey. Above all, you should have enough
experience to feel fairly confident and fearless about your journeys.
As I've said before, you should always create a ritual space before
attempting a trance, and close that space afterward. It is also wise to pick a
specific destination, at least until you are very, very good at trance journeys.
Having a particular god or goddess in mind when you set out ensures that you
will be journeying into a safe space, under the protection of a deity. I often
find that the goddess I am trying to contact is expecting me, as if I'd made an
appointment with her when I decided to do the trance. You should also put some
thought into which deities you visit. When starting out, it's best to pick gods
and goddesses who are highly accessible, friendly, and beneficent. Sometimes the
more ambiguous deities can be a little disturbing or hard to contact, and you
want to ensure your success as much as possible on your early journeys.
AVOIDING PITFALLS
You might want to call in a magical helper of some sort to
accompany you on your initial expeditions. As you will see from my own trance
descriptions, I was always met by Sleipnir, the god Odin's horse, which could
travel through the various worlds. Having a trusted guide greatly increases your
confidence on your journeys and makes the initial stages more interesting.
Later, after you gain more experience, you can try journeying alone, although it
often seems harder to reach your desired destination that way. You can take the
shape of an animal or envision an ideal trance self for these journeys. After
all, this is an imaginary body, so you can fulfill your deepest fantasies. I
personally always see myself as taller and stronger, with the beautiful reddish
hair and flawless complexion I ought to have had. When I began tranceworking my
trance self was older than my actual age, but she is now somewhat younger,
although I'm afraid she's not the one who has changed.
If you are walking down a path in your journeys, you should not step off it
for any reason. If you wander into a landscape or region that makes you feel at
all uneasy or that looks ugly or threatening, just turn around and go right
back; you can always start again, or try it some other night. The point of these
trances is to make yourself feel empowered and glad, not to scare yourself
silly. Often, if you are going to visit a particular god or goddess, that deity
will appear and help you if you get hung up somewhere. Sometimes you will meet
the deity on your way to her abode and wind up traveling with her to some other
location altogether. Be aware that your imagination can shape this trance world,
just as it does in a lucid dream. You can imagine yourself able to fly, jump
over forests, fight magnificently, or turn into an animal. Once, when I felt
scared and wanted to return very quickly, I conjured up an image of a very fine
outboard motor that ran on mead to speed my little boat.
I sometimes experience various physical sensations while in a trance, usually
when I've had enough and am ready to come back. I get muddled and vague and have
trouble communicating or listening. I feel the trance world starting to fade,
and sometimes my own body starts getting a bit transparent. Usually the deities
I am with will notice this first and comment on it; very often they will tell me
point-blank to go home and come back again later. I often experience slight
cramping in the calves of my legs and a sense of restlessness and discomfort
when I have been in trance too long; it's as if the body can only do this for a
certain period of time. When you start feeling uncomfortable in the trance,
simply say good-bye and head back as swiftly as possible.
After my initial problems with achieving the trance state, I became convinced
that my objective was to try to achieve the best, deepest trance state possible.
However, in practice I have found that deeper is not necessarily better. If I go
into too deep a trance, I find that my body becomes too heavy and I can't move
in the trance world; I can't maneuver my body, act, or communicate. On the other
hand, if the trance is too shallow, I find I am not free enough to interact with
the beings of the trance world; I'm unable to perceive it fully. With practice
you will learn just how deep a trance you function in best; this will even vary
from time to time, depending on how tired you are and how good your
concentration is. That's why I find it useful to have a whole list of induction
methods. On a bad night I go through one after the other until I achieve the
level of trance I desire; on other nights I only use one or two steps, then set
out on my journey.
Sometimes your trance starts out very well, then you get “fuzzy” and bogged
down in the middle of it; at other times you feel in the beginning that you
aren't achieving a very good trance at all, but it winds up being highly
successful. I would advise always starting your journey, even if you feel your
trance to be poor in the initial stages, just to see what happens. Even if you
can't make much headway, at least you'll have some data to add to your lists of
what works and what doesn't. An exception to this would be if you felt a
definite sense of unease or fear; in that case, return immediately and try it
another night.
When contacting your god or goddess, you will sometimes get only vague,
scattered images and symbols and a few cryptic phrases. At other times you will
experience an entire conversation, sometimes even a full-blown adventure, and
the deity will give you all sorts of advice and suggestions. You will find that
some deities are easier to contact than others. Sometimes this depends on the
god or goddessâsome beings are just friendlier and easier to understand than
others. Other times it depends on you, on your own nature and personality. Just
as you get along with some people better than others, so you will have more in
common with some gods and goddesses than with others, and those deities most
similar to your personality and interests tend to be easier to reach. Sometimes
it takes several separate journeys to the same deity before you feel you've made
real contact. I would suggest you make at least two or three attempts, because
your failure might be due to the weather or your being tired rather than on your
relationship with that being.
CURB YOUR ENTHUSIASM
Although tranceworking can be such an enjoyable and enriching
experience that you want to return again and again, I would advise against doing
trances too often. For one thing, doing a tranceworking more than, say, twice a
month seems to inhibit the effectiveness of the workings, and you wind up
feeling as if it's a chore rather than a pleasure. Tranceworking requires a lot
of preparation to do it right and it's a little tiring physically if you do it
too often. It is also best to mull over what happened on the first trances for a
while before filling your head with new images. You don't want to start spending
all your time in “fairyland” lest you become lost to your own world, as did some
of the mortals in folk legends. If you do a tranceworking to a particular god or
goddess and are not satisfied with your results, you might try a second one a
week or two later. If you still don't have much success, let it wait a while and
return to that deity after some time has passed.
Again, always complete the journey once you've started out, even if the
return is faster and less detailed than the going in, and always end by feeling
yourself in your real physical body again. Be sure to record your experiences as
soon after the trance as possible. Attend to your physical needs after the
trance, keep warm and eat something, and let yourself reexperience this world.
Above all, tranceworking should be an enjoyable experience, not a chore or a
fearsome proposition. Just as some rituals attempt to bring the presence of the
gods into our physical world, tranceworking gives you the chance to be present
in the world of the gods. It is your opportunity to get to know better the gods
and goddesses with whom you work and to develop a sense of understanding and
friendship with them. You can learn little details about your deities that will
fill out and enrich the historical and mythological records. You may often
receive very wise and helpful advice, occasionally about problems you didn't
even know you had or hadn't thought to ask about. In fact, don't be surprised if
your god or goddess starts to talk about the problem that's really bothering you
instead of the one you thought you wanted to discuss.
KEEPING AN OPEN MIND
Tranceworking is not meant as a replacement for all the
historical, literary, and archaeological evidence available to us, and you
should certainly not fall into the trap of deciding that any pet whim you
imagine in a trance is more valid than something written in a book. You should
also not take offense if you meet someone whose trance experiences differ from
your own, nor try to insist that your perceptions are right and hers are wrong.
Remember that your own ideas and experiences will color your trances and that
not everything you see and hear is valid for anyone but yourself. However,
tranceworking is a valuable addition to factual information, especially when
dealing with figures for whom we have sparse information. Many of the things you
learn in trances are valid, and you will often find other people who saw the
same things as you did, or read something in a scholarly text that confirms what
you saw or heard in a tranceworking.
Tranceworking, like ritual, allows you to build emotional links with your
gods and goddesses and gives you access to the other worlds and the beings in
them. Trances can enable you to learn things about the universe and about
yourself. Most of all, they allow you to form bonds with your gods and your
ancestors, links of love and loyalty that can bridge time in all directions.