Earth-Based Religion?

In the military, paganisms are usually lumped together under the term "Earth-Based Religion" or "Earth-Based Spirituality".  As I've quipped, this means Wicca ends up being the non-denominational paganism.

While unfortunate, it did lead me to do some thinking about how this term does or might apply to Norse paganism.

Our northern European predecessors had no choice but to be aware of themselves as part of nature.  There was a separation between Njord, gentle Van of the sea and Aegir, Whose family brought sailors to their deaths.  The rune poems show ice as being beautiful, but deadly.  Nature was rich in splendour and danger both.

It is in the tension between beauty and merciless danger where a person who is aware of their surroundings can feel most alive.  I was able to feel this most acutely when I lived in Canada, with the cold stealing my breath when I walked outside even as it made the sky the most brilliant cerulean blue I've ever seen.

In southern California, where I live now, it's been more challenging to feel that connection to nature. For a few years we lived in a cottage with a garden, where we were able to grow much of our own food.  California of course has a very forgiving climate, and crop failure was an inconvenience at worst, a learning curve at best.  It's easy for nature to fade into the background.  Yes there are opossums and birds and rain to work with, but aside from that, nature can be rather theoretical.

This past fall, southern California had a blackout that went from the border up to at least Orange County.  My husband and I got a fine lesson on how unprepared we were, and how dark night really is when the lights go out.  Fortunately, we have friends who have a yard, a grill and a firepit, so we went to their place to cook over the wood fire and talk in the firelight.  For once, we could look up and clearly see the starts, which are usually obscured by light pollution.  We all commented on how quiet it was, because electric lights and the sound from sound systems around us form a steady white noise we hadn't realized existed.

We're very fortunate to live in a place where crime was very minimal during the blackout, and people took the opportunity to actually speak to their neighbours.  For us, taking refuge from the dark around the firepit was a reminder of times past when the darkness really could kill the unwary.

Hail Njord!  Hail Nerthus!  May those of us in industrialized nations respect and appreciate Your powers.

Odin

Look up.
Do you feel the pressure of a gaze on your back?
Look up and you might see him--no, don't bother standing,
You're just fine where you are.
Look up,
Raise your eyes to his, see
The one eye, bright blue, the other long-lost, covered by a worn felted patch.
His face a map of  laugh lines, worry lines, weather lines.
He's smiling, he always is, it seems.
Are you wary? So is he,
Wanderer of the Nine Worlds, perpetual seeker of Wisdom
in the wild Scandinavian night.
Would you too seek Wisdom?  Would you too pay its price?
It's not cheap, I will warn you, but you're before him already.
All it takes is one movement, one moment of truth.
Look up.

Hailsa!

Since there's been a lot of interest in "home blogs" or "mommy blogs", including a kerfluffle when a Wiccan mama's blog was up for an award (the delightful /http://www.confessionsofapagansoccermom.com/), I decided to throw my own hat into the ring.  It's a Valkyrie's helmet, so be careful about tripping over it.

My name is Signy.  I'm a Northern Tradition pagan, living in sunny southern California with Sven, my husband of 12 years, and our two gray cats, Ivan and Lalat.  Both of us were raised Catholic, but when Sven decided to go back to his Danish roots, I spiritually went with him.  I've been wearing a Mjollnir on a chain around my neck since I went to Afghanistan in October of 2009.  Two years and a week ago, I realize as I think about it.  I'd been offering blot to Odin, Thor and Loki* for at least a year before that.

The hardest thing about living a Northern Tradition for me is living in a place where we almost never see frost, and where in the middle of winter a person should plant the crops that would grow in Scandinavia during the summer.  Still, after living in SoCal for nine years I've started to recognize different seasonal signs.  While I still wish for the brilliant changing leaves of my past, I notice subtle changes to the light, the cooler weather and of course the shortening days.  

And football.  It's not as often accompanied by the smell of woodsmoke from surrounding chimneys, but football is a firm marker for me.

I am working on a longer Winter Finding post, but until then, this is the start on the blog.

*Yes, Loki, and I'll tell you why.  First, Odin won't drink unless his blood-brother drinks too.  Second, European heathens don't shun the Trickster in the same way American heathens do, and I think it's because Americans have an instinct to try to shove everything into a Christian pattern.  I've read essays by heathens who I swear secretly want to be Pentecostals.  Loki was part of the lore handed down to Sven by his Danish grandfather.  One must certainly be careful when dealing with Loki; he's wildfire and to be respected.  I do not think it's coincidence that my Lokean husband ended up with a wife whose role model as an NCO is Thor.