Ljossalfheim: The Hidden World

I had no expectations on my trip to Ljossalfheim since I knew very little about it.  I decided to take this journey while visiting with Anise, one of my Catskin Sisters.  In her apartment, an altar was created.  A goblet of beer and a slice of bread with honey were offered.  Anise blessed each of the offerings with the Sowilo rune.  Candles were lit, lights dimmed and I began to settle into trance…

I had a hard time focusing and making the transition into Midgard.  I had literally torn my way through the barrier in an exasperated attempt to journey over.  I had trouble seeing the world around me in Midgard.  I had never had this happen before so I called the Bear over to me and asked him to help.  The Bear licked my eyelids.  I was able to see slightly better, but I felt that I wasn’t fully functional yet.  I decided to try to ground/center myself in Midgard to see if it would help.  It seemed to enable me to go through with my journey.  I told the Bear that I wanted to visit Ljossalfheim and we headed off at a run up the trunk of the World Tree.  We ran for quite some time straight up the trunk, looking for the doorway into Ljossalfheim.  Thinking back to the Sowilo rune used in the blessing of the offerings helped.  I looked up to see a door made out of four large linked Sowilos forming a diamond-like shape hovering slightly off of the main trunk of the Tree.  The Bear had to jump into the ring-like portal and there was a sensation of being lifted upwards through it, like a vortex pulling at us.

Overwhelming brightness of a yellow sun.  The clear golden light is so intense that my eyes take a moment to adjust.  I look around to see a beautiful spring/early summer day before me.  A vast meadow clearing filled with a carpet of multi-colored alpine flowers surrounds me.  The idyllic scene seems to be missing a body of water of some kind.  At that thought, a small swift brook flows through the center of the meadow.  The borders of the area are ringed with slim-trunk trees that appear to be the edge of a dense Aspen forest.  I wonder at the mutability of this realm.  Experimentally, I try to picture physically changing a section of the field.  Immediately, a dark patch appears and begins to spread and ripple.  I quickly banish the thought and let the meadow return to “normal”.  I can see no one around.  I decide to announce myself (since that seems to have helped in past journeying experiences).  I reach out and pull the essence of the offerings into my hands.  I am now holding a goblet of beer and a small plate with the honeyed-bread upon it.   In front of me, a wide oak stump emerges from the ground, as large as a table.  I get the hint and set the offerings down on it.  After doing so, I am now able to see indistinct shapes of people moving and standing at the edge of the clearing.  They are hard to look clearly at–like pale and beautiful ghosts…

As I was trying to peer at these ephemeral shapes, I am startled by a sound and a splashing…somehow the goblet of beer has been tipped over, spilling all over me–clothes, arms, and body.  Remembering my fairy tales, I wonder if this accepted offering would in some way help me to “stay” more firmly in this realm.  I anoint my eyes and lips with some of the spilled beer.  I can see in a full spectrum of color now.  I see that the shapes moving along the edge of the forest are tall and beautiful men with long silvery-blond hair dressed in shades of green, staring out at me with calm and solemn eyes.  The Alfar.  I start towards the trees, only to realize that I am unintentionally rushing at them full speed.  I am slammed into a barrier somewhere in the middle of the woods.  I look up to see that I am at the edge of a grave mound ringed with stones–short orthostats about a meter high that gleam white in the sun.  I bow my head in deference and slowly back away.  I feel that I am not supposed to be there, so I ask,

“Please show me something beautiful, somewhere I will be welcome.”

I am caught up in the otherworldly energy of this realm, I feel like a child–acting on impulse.  One of the alfar approaches me and motions that I should travel on, pointing in the right direction.  I follow further into the woods.  I see a sparkling spring erupting from the ground, feeding a small stream.  I kneel down next to the spring and look up questioningly at the Alfar who have gathered around me.  They nod their heads.  I hesitate for a second, but notice that the Bear has already knelt down too.  I cup the water in my hand and drink.  This water is cool and sweet.  I feel a burden lifting–feel comfort, peace, and true joy.

Refreshed, I ask the Alfar how I should honor them.  I realize that I cannot hear them.  I had forgotten to anoint my ears…instead I had to “listen” in other ways.  They understood that I could not hear their voices so they spoke to me in images, with thoughts.

*Where the flowers are, we are there…in the hidden places where Nature is unspoiled, we are there*

*Honor us, honor your Ancestors.  Make us a shrine, an altar that is beautiful.  Flowers.*

“Is it always daytime here?” I ask.

(amusement)*No, we have day and night and many seasons here.* (shows me images of their seasons…they look like pristine and idealized expressions of Nature.  Night-time is beautiful here as well, a huge silver white moon a star-filled sky, a gentle breeze that rustles through pine boughs)

I nod in understanding.  I ask them for a favor, I ask for some of the spring water to take with me.  They consider this request for a moment…I fear that I have overstepped the boundaries of politeness.  I look at them and try to show them with my face that I have no ulterior motive, that my request is genuine and sincere.  They nod at me, giving permission.  I quickly go back to the spring and pull out a tiny crystal flask suspended on a silver chain from a pocket in my skirt.  I dip the flask into the spring.  On impulse, I pick a couple of the tiny pink flowers growing amidst the rocks along the edge of the spring and drop them into the flask.  Knowing that this was not part of the original agreement, I leave an offering of myself in exchange.  I pulled three of my hairs off of my head and plaited them into a ring.  I left this under a stone, roughly about where I had picked the flowers.  This water is a gift.  I can drink a little from the flask in times when I have forgotten what it feels like to be “happy”.

I return to where the Alfar are standing.  I tell them how much more beautiful their world is from mine–that I would love to return sometime and that this journey has made me feel glad.  I am careful not to say “thank you” as is recommended in the older fairy tales.  This implies an inequality of reciprocity to me.  The implication that you are not going to show thanks by doing or giving something yourself–that mere words are enough.  I know that my time here is done.  I climb back on to the Bear and we head off back toward the meadow.  The Sowilo portal was still there at the end of the clearing and we jumped back through it.  The vortex seemed to work both ways and we landed rather suddenly on the Trunk.  We travel back to my home.  I pull out some berries from my pocket and infuse them with the happiness of my time in Ljossalfheim.  The Bear ate them greedily.  I decided to save the last berry for myself and was delighted that it did, indeed, taste like Joy.  The Bear’s puzzled look prompted me to reach back in my skirt pocket for another treat to give him.  To our mutual surprise, I pulled out a live salmon!  The Bear was quite pleased by that.

I said goodbye to the Bear and slipedp back into the consciousness of normal reality.

*End note:  Ljossalfheim definitely feels like a realm that one does not visit as a “tourist.”  The Alfar were very kind to me, but it felt like a politeness, a civility that could be revoked if you behaved inappropriately.  I felt like a stranger who had wandered into someone’s cocktail party…as long as you are polite and don’t draw too much attention to yourself, no one is likely to kick you out…if and when I return to Ljossalfheim, it will be for a very good reason.  Also, this realm feels more “magical” than any other so far.  I feel like all of the old fairy tale rules apply here if one wants to travel around unscathed.

Bodily in Vanaheim

*This trip to Vanaheim took a long time for me to process.  About a month has passed since I went on this journey and even though this trip was very personal, I still feel that I should share my experience.*

I decided late one evening that I should finally take a journey to Vanaheim.  I knew from the accounts of my fellow Catskin Sisters that it was a realm that one did not gain entry to without proper preparation and offerings.  With that in mind, I created a make-shift altar with some candles and a plate of honey, apples, and sweet bread.

After slipping into trance and calling my fylgja to me I decided that I should feed my fylgja (taking a cue from my Sisters).  I fed the Bear some berries and as well as a bit of the essence of the honey on the offering plate.  We briefly explored my cottage home in Midgard, noting that I had an herb garden growing along the sides of the house as well as an orchard in the backyard filled with apple trees and pear trees.  Pine trees surround the clearing in which my home stands.  I also noticed some deer darting in and around the edge of the clearing.

After explaining to my fylgja where I wished to go, we were then off and running.  I was seated astride the Bear as we traveled up the trunk of the World Tree aiming toward a wide left branch that became a road.  The sunlight filtered through the green leaves of the Tree and created pools of light along our path.  Since I did not notice any entrances into Vanaheim along the way, I decided that we should stop and try to figure out what was missing–what I wasn’t understanding.  I know from past experiences that if one states their intentions aloud it sometimes helps to facilitate a change or manifestation.  I announced that I wished to go to Vanaheim and began to focus on the Ingwaz rune.  It appeared before me on the road, hovering in the air, shimmering and golden.  I knew that it was meant to act as a door but I felt disconnected from it–didn’t know how to use it.  I grasped out at the rune with my energy, not specifying how I wished to connect with it (I have a habit of *doing* before *thinking*…).  Before I knew what was happening, I felt my womb’s blood flowing out from me as a thin ribbon of energy, linking into one half of the rune.  Simultaneously, my mouth fell open and saliva formed a second energy line into the other half of the rune.  The two strands met, and the center of Ingwaz became a portal, a door into Vanaheim.  This door stretched wide enough to encompass both myself and the Bear and we were able to squeeze through.

Once firmly in Vanaheim, I noticed the rolling hills of golden grain that rippled in the slight breeze.  I can see the rosy rays of the setting sun illuminating the sea beyond.  In the distance, there is a village with a great hall and an impressive forest extending all around this area.  I am able to see the World Tree rising in the background with its huge branches stretching up into the sky.  The Bear and I appear to be alone.  We wander around in the fields looking for signs of other inhabitants.  I state aloud that I have brought a token of friendship and that I would like to talk to someone if they have the time.  A strange tiredness comes over me and the grain suddenly looks like a comfortable place to stop and take a nap in.  I decide to bed down and sleep for a bit.

I awake, startled, to see a male face peering over me.  I quickly get up and take stock of my surroundings.  The man before me is beautiful and golden with flowing hair the color of wheat and a slight beard.   He smiles.  I realize that it is Frey.  I am dumbstruck and stammer at him, trying to offer the apples and honey that I brought with me.  He smiles at the gesture (I realize now how patient he was with me).  He motions with his arm that we should walk together.  He is silent.  I notice that I am becoming increasingly attracted to him and am appalled that I am making a fool of myself.  Half-apologizing, half-alarmed, I ask why this is happening.  Frey alludes to the way in which I created my door into Vanaheim…the tone I set by doing so is tingeing this visit.  We continue to walk toward the sea.

As I start to climb down toward the shore, I turn around to notice that Frey did not follow me.  At the edge of the field, his image became less distinct.  Panicked, I quickly climb back up, but he is gone.  I call for my Bear since I feel that maybe it is time to leave.  As I start to go, I look down in horror to see that I am hemorrhaging blood from my womb.  I dismount, and stagger around.  Blood is everywhere–in the Bear’s fur, on my clothes, my hands.  Blood is rushing into the soil and soaking into the land.  I am scared.  I call for the Bear, who comes over and licks my face assuringly.  I then realize that I will bleed to death in the field.  I decide to accept it and at that moment, my body begins to sink into the dampened soil and I am subsumed.  I am still conscious.  I feel the soil, the land, and have awareness.  I experience downpours of rain that awaken new life in the seeds.  I feel the collective grains push forth new shoots and I warm myself in the sunlight that feeds them.  I am lifted higher as the plants gain new height and I ripple in the wind that shakes them.  I am gathered up and harvested, ground, eaten, and returned to the Earth.  I lay once more in the soil when I feel my human body collect itself and rise up out of the mud.  My Lord, Frey, is reaching out to me and lifts me  up.  I am covered in earth and blood and rain.  I look upon His face and begin to understand that He *is* the land.  Through this experience–through Frey, I feel sorrow, ecstasy, and wonder.

“What would you have of me?” I ask him.

“Honor us, the land.  Honor me.”

At that moment, the Bear and I rise up into the sky and drift away and out of Vanaheim.  Our time there was finished.  We will return again.

*End note:  Most of my trance journeys are not as primal? as this one.  Also, I don’t tend to fall in love with deities I’ve never met before!

The Diner

An account of a vision received during meditation in Autumn of last year.

As I am preparing for sleep, I feel as if it would be nice to ground myself, to fill myself with energy, the cthonic earth-current… and I feel as if I am floating inside myself, but I am only bones.  I can look out of myself, through the bones, I see them clothed in flesh.  I would think that I would find this disconcerting, being bones, but it doesn’t bother me.

I feel a fluttering in my subconscious, as if someone is trying to get my attention.  I find myself seated at a mid-century formica table, like one might find in a diner.  There is a figure sitting caddy-corner to me, insistently pointing its finger at the table, maybe something on the table (a document?) but I can’t hear or make out what is being said.  The figure is humanoid, but seems melted somehow, the features yellowish, indistinguishable, run like wax.

I then see that I am seated across the table from four figures: The wax-mannequin, a machine-person, a man who is burned - all blackened and charred, and a vague oval glow of calm blue light.  I don’t find any of these figures frightening, despite their strange appearance.  I realize that I’m pretty sure I know who they all are! 

The wax mannequin is Grandma W.  It was she who had something important to tell me (maybe it was just to tell me to listen)!  I don’t know why she’s made of wax, but I suspect it has to do with her last years, when she lost herself.  The machine-man is Grandpa W, whom I never knew. His kidneys were bad, so I know that he did have to spend his last days on dialysis, one with the machine. 

 The burned man is Grandpa S, passed on just a few years.  He seems just as familiar as ever, and as I recognize him I also get a clear sense of what he’d like from me: I smell for a moment, in the physical world, a whiff of pipe smoke.  He always smoked one, and in fact it was the last thing he ever did; stepped out onto his porch one morning for a smoke… The calm blue light is Grandma S, an invalid as long as I knew her, whole mind in a body long since wasted.  She read us faithfully as children the 23rd Psalm, always had Holy Bible to hand, so I know that she isn’t here, really - she’s moved on toward peace.

These are the people whom I must remember.  When I know that I will have a permanent space in which to do so, their images will adorn an altar shelf.  I know what I will give them for offerings, what things I will have with their pictures to remember them by.  These are my people, a long line of poor country folk (as far as I know…) who hold a large part of my luck in their keeping.  I don’t know exactly what they can help me with from beyond the Veil, only that I cannot forget who they were, for better or for worse. 

This vision I received in Autumn of 2009.  It’s now September 2010, and I must, *must,* before the Dark Half of the Year arrives, go to Jon’s Pipe Shop and buy some tobacco.  He is waiting, and very patient, but I have not given him what he asked for, yet, and for that I’m sorry.

Can I get there by Candlelight…

I had put off attempting to journey to Ljossalfheim, the realm of the Light Elves, for some time, because I know little about them and also because I doubted it would work.  It was hard enough for me to get into Vanaheim, a realm I feel some connection with, let alone the Lightworld, which seems like somewhere far and strange.  But, at last I had an evening to myself, so it was time to journey.

The offerings I provided were some dried hops I had recently picked up at the local herb shop, just because they seemed Vanic and ‘elven,’ and also some white wine.  since I was alone, I took up my wand and drew a warding circle, sunwise, around myself before I began.  I don’t know if this helped or hindered, but it made me feel better.

Grounding, centering, concentrating on just being present, floating in the void.  I know I need to do this more often, I feel I’m frankly not that good yet. But, stressing about it won’t help – Don’t disbelieve, I tell myself.  Just go with what you experience, just let the energy flow.  Don’t try to force things. It takes a long time to be good at things that are worth being good at. 

I step out of the Void Between into the place of my sanctuary, the House in the Hill.  When I first arrive it is daytime, even though in the physical world it is night.  I ‘tap’ the scene with my mind, and it becomes nighttime here as well.  How strange… I enter with my fetch and make sure that his food and water are well imbued with my energy and love.  I sit down on the couch, and see that there are a few things laid out on the coffee table.

The things on the table are usually different each time I am here, and seem to be things I’ll need, materials or books that will be useful, or even just things that I enjoy or am thinking about.  (Once, it was a few orchid plants.  Now that I consider it, one looked quite a bit like an orchid I acquired recently.  Hmm.)

I thank the house for being so thoughtful.  This time, there is a long wooden staff laid across the table, and a book open to a photograph of a dark little doorway in the bole of an ancient tree.  I ask my fetch if the staff is the one I’ve seen here before, the one I’m soon  to find in the waking world, to be a tool of Seith-working.  Yes, he says.  He tells me that I’ll know it when I see it, and that I’ll have a chance to claim it, but that Iwill have to act decisively at the right moment.  I see a flash of bright scarlet, just for a moment.  A sacred color, life and blood, but also a color I associate with Frau Holda. It will be interesting to see how this plays out.

The book seems to be written in a language I cannot read, or perhaps I am not there strongly enough to see the letters clearly. The picture is of a doorway that I believe will help me get to Svartalfheim (I think); but alas, I am not going there today.

As I am sitting and puzzling over the book, I notice that there are little black spots of energy or some other kind of dreck hovering around and on my hands.  I realize that it’s a manifestation of the cold I am recovering from.  Well, wash up, my fetch says, and I suddenly realize that I don’t know where the bathroom is here!  I find it upstairs, just off the bedroom, and wash my face and hands in cool, soapy water.  Much better.

I wonder if I’ll need the staff where I’m going, but get a clear sense that I should not bring it, or at least that it won’t be needed.  I go ino the kitchen to put my offerings into a backpack, and as I am transfering the essence of the hops and wine into the pack, I get a strong rush of energy. Good, I think, I can feel it.

I walk out of the kitchen door, asking my fetch to help me find a road to Ljossalfheim, but I have no idea where to go, how to find it.  It’s nightime, but I want to get to the Lightworld.  I briefly think of it being dawn here, the red rim of sun piercing through distant trees, but…it feels forced.  I ask Warder, can you please show me a place where it would be easier to get into Ljossalfhaim?  Then, a moment later, we are in the high mountain meadow.

Ah, a high place.  I think this might make things a little easier.  I take in the cerulean sky, the small bright alpine flowers waving in the breeze, and visualize a door-sized sigrune hanging in the air before me.  It glows brighter as I walk towards it.  As I step into the rune, I am bathed in golden light.  I take another step forward…and am standing in the meadow, with the rune behind me.  Aaargh!

So…now what? I see what looks like a puddle of sunlight, a golden pool, on the ground a little distance away.  It doesn’t feel right, though… jumping down into a pool? No, that’s not right.  What do I need to do? My fetch starts bounding up and down the length of the meadow, and I get the feeling that running, getting my energy moving, stepping up my metabolism so to speak, might help.  I run around after Warder, and though it’s kind of fun, it is also becoming apparent that my left leg is well and truly asleep in the waking world, and so I am pulled by the sensation of needles into the physical realm.  I proclaim that my offerings still stand, even though I was not able to deliver them into Ljossalfheim myself, stand up and brush away the warding circle with my wand.  So, no road, no path, no dice.  Pleh.

So, what do I need to do?  Several things, I think.  Trying again soon is advisable, since the ghost of the energy of my first attempt might help give me a boost.  Also, trying to slip deeper into trance before journeying, even though I tend to be impatient.  Last but not least, journeying from (or along) the Tree itself, rather that trying to find a road directly from my Sanctuary. So, I shall try again, and see if I can find a path. 

‘How many miles to Babylon,

Three score miles and ten.

Can I get there by candlelight?

Yes, and back again.

Yes, if your feet are nimble and light,

You can get there by candlelight.’ 

(Traditional rhyme, quoted from Neil Gaiman’s ‘Stardust’)

An Inhabitant of the World Tree

*This is a post from my other blog, but I also wanted to post it here…*

I just thought I’d add an account of a recent inadvertent trance journey that I slipped into while trying (unsuccessfully) to go to sleep one night…

I decided that I would do a grounding and centering exercise to try to quiet my mind.  After I had done that, I thought about Yggdrasil, the World Tree.  I wanted to try to meditate on the Tree because I am drawn to it and its energy.  I also thought that this would be a fairly uncomplicated task since it was late and I was tired.

Since I was in an exhausted state, I didn’t trust myself to be as aware of my surroundings in the Nine Worlds realm as I normally would be.  As I slipped into a trance state and found myself standing at the base of the Tree, firmly in Midgard, I made sure to call my fylgja to me so that I would feel a bit more secure.  Just in case I ended up wandering further than I intended to that night.  I decided that I would journey on the Tree itself.  Since I didn’t want to run into Ratatosk or any other random beings that I wasn’t fully prepared for, I asked the Tree to guide me toward a safer area that I would be welcome in.  *As a side note:  I fully believe that the Tree has a consciousness of its own*

My fylgja and I traveled up the trunk, bearing slightly toward the left and curling around the side of the trunk.  There was a carved niche in the trunk that appeared to extend for some distance into the side of the Tree.  I looked at my fylgja for assurance.  After watching the Bear nod its head, I decided that we should proceed into the niche.  The opening looked too narrow for my full-sized Kodiak Bear fylgja to fit through.  As I pondered this, the Bear shrank down to the size of a small carving–small enough that I could place it into one of my large pockets.  I squeezed through a tight stairway that wound up the outer wall heading further back and to the left.  It became increasingly harder to ascend the stairs…I felt a reluctance and a physical pressure to stop.  Of course!  An offering…or lack, thereof.  How silly of me.   I reached out and pulled at the essence of a small quartz crystal that I had laying on my nightstand, intending to offer the crystal to whomever was present.  Once I had a hold of the crystal in that realm it was no longer a problem to continue up the stairs.  At a landing on the top of the stairs I saw that it was a small home complete with tiny rooms.  I became nervous at the thought of intruding into a strange home uninvited.  I looked to my right and saw a small dining room with a large rectangular oak table complete with two chairs, one at either end.  In the chair furthest from me was a small man who was looking rather expectantly at me…

This man appeared elderly with a long white beard and a pointed cap.  I thought that he looked rather like a gnome, but I kept that to myself.  He motioned for me to come in and pointed at the chair closest to me.  I stammer a greeting at him, something to the effect of “I apologize for arriving without notice, I am new to traveling in this realm.  I would love to talk with you if it pleases you…”  I know I sounded awkward, but it was the best I could come up with on the spot.

The chair was interesting because it appeared to fluxuate in size.  I gingerly sat down in it and immediately gripped the edge of the table as the chair started to lower its seat away from me.  The little man laughed and said,

“The chair will set itself straight in a moment…you never know what kind of visitor you will receive.”

Indeed, the chair brought its seat back up and I was able to relax into it.  This chair was able to accommodate any size person…very useful in the other realm.  He continued to remark that he had not had any human visitors  for some time, although he had heard it was becoming more frequent for humans to visit his world more often than in recent times.  I asked him, rather bashfully, what he *was* and what I should call him…this might be rude, but I tried to ask in the most polite way possible.  He told me that he was very old and was associated with the pine trees in Eastern Europe the last time that he was venerated.  I got the feeling that he was a type of tree spirit or minor deity but that he was living in the World Tree because he no longer had a sacred space to call home in the “Real World.”  As for his name, it could only guess at the spelling and I can’t seem to find a translation of it easily.  It sounded like he was saying “Dvorni”  the spelling could be off or I might have guessed wrong at what letters I thought I was hearing.

I decided that if he was willing that I would ask him to act as a teacher in the world of plant and tree spirits.  I started to ask the question, but he cut me off by shaking his head.

“Bring me an offering,” he said.

“I brought you a bit of quartz crystal,” I tried to point out.

“I would like a decent drink,” he countered.

Wanting clarification, I ask, “Mead?”

“That would do.”

“How soon?  Does it need to be mead that I have brewed myself?”

“That would be best,” he insisted.

“I’ve never brewed mead before, I haven’t even started the process!  It won’t be ready for months!”

“I’ll wait,” he said calmly and firmly.

This shouldn’t have surprised me.  The amount of time it takes to brew and age mead most likely wouldn’t seem very long to an old spirit.

“Do you want the crystal buried at the base of a pine tree?”

“Keep it.  I’m more interested in the mead, but don’t misunderstand–it was a nice gesture.”

On that note, I knew that it was time to go.  I won’t be returning until I have the necessary mead in hand.  This chance encounter has given me a new project to pursue as well as the knowledge one can encounter helpful spirits in the other realms without too much trouble….but, of course, no gives you something for nothing!   A philosophy I completely understand.  Also, putting the stipulation that I must brew my own mead make sure that I am serious about building a relationship with this spirit and that I am not taking it lightly.

I made sure to show my appreciation for the tree spirit’s time and informed him that I would be back once I had completed my task.  I thanked Yggdrasil for allowing me to make a new acquaintance in a safe manner.  Once I had slipped back out of trance I slept soundly and pondered my journey in my dreams.