Sunday, November 17, 2013

Rokkr Revisited

A previous post here mentioned my growing affinity with the Rokkr/Jotnar of the Norse mythology.  As should be expected, that connection has since grown considerably, and expanded somewhat into the Irish-Celtic side as it relates to some of the Fomori. Within a month of Loki reaching out to me in meditation, I felt two now very much familiar presences do the same, advocating a more broad connection with the Jotnar as a whole.  First, a chill went through the very core of me, followed by a sensation of a massive weight settling on my shoulders.  Jormungandr and Hela had made their presences known, and I've begun to work with them as freely as with their brother, Fenrir.  I've come to understand the reason that the Rokkr appeal so much to me, and these three in particular, so let's take a few moments to explain how I view these much maligned entities.

Fenrir remains my most important connection, as an equal to the Morrigan (I'll get to her in another post when I revisit the Irish side).  In addition to his association with having restrained aspects of myself that I don't like, I've grown to recognize the principal aspect that ties in with Fenrir.  I have perhaps had more issues with anger and my temper in life than any other psychological matter.  I meet with opposition and I force myself to stop before letting my temper voice an opinion that I may want to reword and express in a more calm manner.  I hold grudges for inordinate lengths of time, and let them stew and froth long after I've forgotten their original meaning.  Fenrir represents that sort of anger, but through my bond with him, I feel a greater control over my temper than I've ever had, simply out of understanding.  Fenrir was bound because his nature caused fear for the potential destruction he could bring about, much as I've bound my anger.  The more I'm able to do wolf-meditations and connect with Fenrir, the calmer and more relaxed I become, even if it gets a little tense right before the cyclical devotionals begin.

Jormungandr's binding is very different, and one that I can relate to in so many ways it's uncanny.  As the World Serpent, Jormungandr is foretold to bring about the end of the world when he releases his own tail from his jaws.  Reverse that statement, and view it from the eyes of the serpent, and you have his significance: If Jormungandr ever ceases his suffering and removes his fangs from his own flesh, it means the end of the world as everyone else knows it.  The immense weight on my shoulders that represents his presence is the weight of my world, and the sense that if I ever let that voluntary burden fall, it will mean some form of catastrophe.  It's something I've been guilty of my entire life, that sense of irrational responsibility and self-imposed urgency to be this stable and unwavering constant.  I understand it all too well.  I'm still trying to find the best way to approach spirit work with Jormungandr, but I'm hoping it will help ease that burden a bit.

Hela's (and worth note, I use strictly Hela to describe the goddess, and Hel to describe her realm in Niflheim) situation is one that I consider quite... sad.  Not monstrous in form like her brothers, she presented no similar threat requiring that she be bound beyond the reach of others, and yet, her form that touches both life and death was exiled to a seemingly noble end, ruling over the land of the dead.  I use the adjective seemingly for a reason, here; she was not to take in the glorious and proud warriors that would go to the gods.  She was sent away from the light of the world, away from where all mortals aspire to go, and to her halls would be sent the shamed, the sickly, and the old -- those deemed unworthy or denied the "glorious death".  I can understand that sense of isolation and feeling like the best in life will elude me, especially when that isolation sets in during youth.  I've done a bit of spirit-work with Hela, and while I doubt I'll ever get used to that chill that comes with it, I do see it's advantages in overcoming that sense of isolation.  Having close, reliable friends helps on a logical, social, and physical level, but that isolation on the spirit level lingers; Hela has already helped me alleviate some of it, and I'm sure that continued work will help that process in the long term.

Loki and I share a strained connection, to say the least.  I still undertake spirit-work with the flame-haired trickster, but I don't get any sense of familiarity or kinship from it.  Loki's purpose in my spirit-work seems to be more grounded in that of the challenger and the critic.  He has no hesitation in reminding me of my flaws, and forcing me to confront them.  While this is an incredibly valuable function, psychologically and spiritually, it's far from enjoyable or relaxing to be reminded of your mistakes or lack of forethought.  He also has a habit of poking his head in while I'm focusing on something else, creating a distraction from my intended purpose; I suspect this is part of the same refinement process that pointing out flaws presents, in that it should be teaching me greater concentration and focus.  I don't get any sense of comfort from him the way that I do from his children, especially since every time he shows up in a meditation, it means being reminded of something that I loathe about myself.

Angrboda has been very interesting to work with, but for reasons entirely separate from those of her children.  While not a Rokkr bound or cast out in any direct way, hers is no less familiar to me.  She is symbolic of the pain of watching a loved one suffer and being unable to prevent it, and more importantly, of carrying on in spite of that.  I see Angrboda as a mother who had three of her children ripped away from her arms and cast into lives of misery, and who in spite of her love for them, did what she had to do to care for her kin within the Iron Wood.  I support her association as an incarnation/facet of Gullveig, and link the two sets of myths into a single entity; as such, she takes on a second aspect of a target of unjust persecution, and of reincarnation (this reincarnation element links her closely with the Morrigan for me, and as the Morrigan has aspects that vary widely depending on which tribes your myths come from, may yet reveal Abgrboda to be part of the triumvirate for my personal work -- but again, more on that in another post).

Others have made brief appearances, but left no discernible impression on me.  Surt and Skadi have been on the sidelines, likely waiting for a reason to properly introduce themselves.  Thrym is in the same category, but his presence has been more felt than seen.  Overall, I certainly share the sentiment of many Rokkatru: the Jotnar are more akin to nature gods and forces of nature than the vilified monsters that post-Christian folklore would have them portrayed, not that that portrayal is a surprise.  They are remarkable entities, elemental and mercurial, and yet representative of fundamental parts of human experience.  I'm hoping that the five core Jotnar I've already interacted with will continue to provide fruitful spirit-work, and that the others may explain themselves in the near future, but in the meantime, it's off for this cycle's second devotional walk in about an hour or so.

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