The Heathrow Airport Experience

Recently a friend told me the place was built atop the lesser known sacred site of a stone circle. Although the spirit I encountered came from elsewhere, chances are the site is still an open portal. It was around the beginning of July, 1980, a late afternoon. I had flown in from Strasbourg, hoping to catch the next flight to Keflavik, standby. If I didn't get on that flight I would have had to wait another two weeks. I was getting seriously jerked around at my work place, interfering with my performance, which required utmost concentration and accuracy in the heraldic handwork of ceremonial scrolls, and protocols of VIP visits. I had barely recovered from a burnout in April, so it was high time for a little self indulging TLC. I had to get as far away from these nuisances as I could, so Iceland couldn't have been more ideal.

The fools actually thought I was putting them on. It never occurred to them that this wasn't the first time I traveled solo on a seeming whim. No, there was always a method to my madness and when they finally came to grips with the reality of it, they were the ones who couldn't handle it. “Why would anyone want to go to Iceland” they said, looking at me like I didn't know what I was talking about. Hanging around with a bunch of sheep-herded tourists in Ibiza or the Cotes d'Azure just isn't my style. I'm a real traveler with my own built-in radar and GPS and what I can't communicate in all the official EU languages, I do with hands and feet. I wanted to go to Iceland to see the world the way the ancient sagas saw it. That's just the way I am.

I was waiting there in the main hall. As transatlantic flights were on a different schedule than commuter, the hall was perfectly empty in that interim between schedules. I was pacing about the place, contemplating my alternatives, should I not get a seat on that flight. There was no way I was going back. I was looking at a poster when I felt a set of heavy foot falls approach from behind, then a warm hand touched my shoulder as a manly voice spoke reassuringly; “don't worry, you will get there”. I turned to respond, but no one was there.

Needless to say, I got there and everything was as I had ventured to imagine. It was like going to another planet entirely. The world as the Norse understood it between the realms of fire and ice. Now when I read the old sagas I know what they are talking about. This is what travel was meant to be, to explore the ancestors and wights of the land. As for my unexpected confidante in Heathrow, I'm sure my heathen colleagues know very well who that was.

Understanding the Difference

I try to take time and patience to research my articles thoroughly, not only for authenticity, but the necessary perspectives that give insight into the way of life that nurtured these things into cultural being. While my experience with European customs and traditions is quite intimately first-hand, not just by heritage but living and experiencing it on location in its every language, I am forever expounding on it with each new discovery. I realize that very few pagans overseas have this opportunity, so I'm only too glad to bridge that gap.

It's a fact there's a lot of misinformation going around in popular pagan literature. All too often the authors have never even been beyond their own borders let alone had to master another language, rather, try to reinvent whatever ethnicity suits their fancy under the label of “Wicca” as if hermetic mysticism were the root of all western civilization. Instead, I've found Europe to have a far greater wealth of ancient traditions, well preserved in the works of traveling minstrels, poets and story-tellers, taking pride in a long heritage of oral tradition.

More often than not, the so-called “lack of written evidence” is just a lame excuse for what modern convenience can't provide in the English language. The irony is, the English language is relatively new compared to others of the European diaspora; thus tends to lack the concepts Germanic and Slavic still retain from as far back as their origins in the Caucasus. It can also be said of the Basques, who are actually native to Western Europe well before the last Ice Age, that their language holds the roots of earliest human beliefs.

Unfortunately, this kind of information is seldom appreciated by those who would rather imagine we are just living in the shadows of some lost magical race, with only an elite few privy to its powers; as if we haven't seen enough fanatics try to make such claims for the promise of utopia. No, I prefer to respect the providence it takes to evolve a reasonably viable existence by one's own means. It raises the question of how complacent we've become in all our urbane comfort. Bear in mind that the word “Craft” doesn't necessarily mean casting spells or summoning the powers that be, but that which you make possible with your own natural skills and kenning. A master of the art as opposed to a wannabe guru; the difference between a culture and a cult.

Walpurgisnacht

1. Es wohnte ein Fiedler zu Frankfurt am Main,
der kehrte von lustiger Zeche heim, und er trat auf den Markt,
was sah er dort? Was sah er dort?
Der schönen Frauen schmausten gar viel an dem Ort.

2. "Du buckliger Fiedler, nun fiedle uns auf!
Wir wollen dir zahlen des Lohnes vollauf; einen Tanz behende |:
gezeiget! :|
Walpurgisnacht wird heute gefei'rt."

3. Der Geiger strich einen fröhlichen Tanz,
die Frauen tanzten den Reigenkranz, und die Erste sprach: |:
 "Mein lieber Sohn, :|
 du geigst so frisch, hab' nun deinen Lohn!"

4. Sie griff ihm behende unter's Wammes sofort,
und nahm ihm den Höcker von dem Rücken fort:
"So gehe nun hin, |: mein schlanker Gesell, :|
dich nimmt nun eine jede Jungfrau zur Stell'."

5. Der Fiedler schlank in die Herberg' trat,
da wartet sein buckliger Kamerad. Den fasste der Neid: |:
 "Der Hexen Gunst :|
erwerb ich mir auch durch meine Kunst!"

6. Er trat auf den Marktplatz, und es tanzte die Schar
im Mondlicht immer noch wunderbar: "Ich geige euch gern, |:
wenn für den Dienst :|
ihr zahlen wollet mit gleicher Gunst."

7. Er geigte falsch zu der Frauen Tanz,
verstörte den holden Reigen ganz. Die Erste sprach: |:
"Mein lieber Sohn, :|
so wie du geigtest, so wird dein Lohn."

8. Sie nestelt ihm vorne am Wammes sofort
und verbarg des Gesellen Höcker dort.
Und nun ging´s husch, |: es wirbelt umher, :|
der weite Marktplatz war still und leer.

9. Der neidische Fiedler tappte gar lang, er dachte,
er käme nach Hause gar schlank. Doch wie lachten sie, |:
wie kam er in Zorn: :|
Er fand sich behöckert - so hinten als vorn.

Spiritual Narcissists

Is there no end to you megalomaniacs condescending our site like some god-sent preacher from hell? Just where do you get off thinking that yours should be the one true virtue we should all die for? I don't give a damn how many books you wrote or how popular you think you are; without any real substance or depth of character, it's just as meaningless as the role plays of those uncongenial protagonists of your new world order. All just as shallow and characterless as your impertinent attempts to defame any signs of resistance to your wanton regime. Exacting persecution on those who are unafraid to express their objections to your impositions openly. Do you actually think projecting such twisted lies on others could possibly prove otherwise? You might as well be fighting windmills, because we don't suffer that kind of identity crisis...but then telling you anything would be futile, as you're too full of yourself to even realize just how much you are only  fooling yourself. Just alot of pious excuses to conceal the fact of what a droll and ineffectual pratt you really are. Just another cog in the machinations of mindless tedium, headed straight for that proverbial black hole. Do yourself a favour, and bugger off while you still have a face to save.

Chariot in Flames

Well now, Mr. Congeniality of the Italian wicca, I see you're still at it. Did you honestly think I don't know a sock puppet when I see one? There comes a point to masquerading where the motives just get too  conspicuous by the nature of their denials. If you had any idea just how tired I am of those worn out good-guy vs. bad-guy Hollywood scenarios, you'd perish the thought of even trying a number like that. It only goes to show how little you comprehend of the world beyond your own vain-glorious affectations. Save the chest-pounding territorial witchwars à la Cosa Nostra, it isn't hard to see where you're really coming from with that. If that's your idea of cunning craft, man are you in for a rude awakening- as not all of us give a shit about your pseudo-moral justifications, let alone know the meaning of fear or guilt. In fact, it raises the question of whether you are even a pagan at all, or just another wannabe new age marketing fashion statement. Oh, and by the way, yes I did read you back to back, and find your view of our cultures just as shallow and pretentious as the rest of that whole new age scene. As the saying goes, in the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king.

Setting the Standard

Modern paganism is the realization that for all our domestic convenience (and that includes religion), we have forgotten what it actually takes to maintain a healthy balance with those natural resources we are so dependent on. In all our desire for the ideal, we risk defeating the very odds that actually keep this world viable. Perfection is simply not meant to be, as learning from mistakes is what makes for evolution- not to shift the blame or turn a blind eye, expecting others to make up for it. Indeed, we have seen the deadly consequences in Chernobyl and Fukushima. This compels us to wonder to how life might have been, if we had kept that ancestral respect for the natural order of things, than assume ingenuity makes us infallible demi-gods. This does not necessarily mean going back to living in caves, or reverently surrendering yourself to chance. What it does mean is taking some time in the wilds to see existence for what it really is; and how instinct gives us insight where all else fails. It's not so much worshiping, as paying due respect, through prudence in assessing our needs as opposed to wants. Living with nature is not about achieving some grandiose “cosmic oneness”, but realizing how the many different things make the whole dynamic, as all things have their own integrity in that balance on so many levels. Albeit for better or worse, one cannot exist without the other.

 For those who take paganism for anything rejected by the Nicene Creed, there seems a need for intimate communion with creation through magic. While the Babylonian mysteries and their rites may form this basis of modern esoterica, that does not make them the one size that fits all. With each new archaeological discovery we are learning that every culture had its excellence in some way at some time or place. It is this randomness of occurrence that keeps us on our toes, ever facing new challenges. Being on the move, however, can seldom burden the luxury of books. Hence, much of the knowledge handed down to us began as fireside allegories and not necessarily scripture or monuments of stone. Experiences and wisdoms describing a way of life and not just some rhetorical dogma. Thus it should be respected that some of these ways have their own language and customs still very much alive in their homelands. That means eclecticism is no excuse for simply taking something sacred for whatever suits your fancy- no matter how enigmatic or broad-minded you aspire to be. Let's not confuse wishful thinking with genuine experience. That is not how cultural diversity or religious tolerance works, especially when you are dealing with people from abroad. If you're into popularity contests to dictate a majority rule, then you are mistaking paganism for a religious order rather than a spiritual movement of diverse personal values.

 Paganism is not about escaping reality to live out some fantasy of universal peace or sublime omnipotence. Just the same, respecting nature does not promote the belief in cosmic salvation for the “chosen”, let alone the idea we were genetically engineered by extraterrestrials. For all we know, we could have just as well come from Mars. While we see the otherworldly as consisting of alternate realms, all things have their physical limitations. Whether its denizens respond favourably or not, is always a question of approach. No matter what your powers of manipulation or mystical prowess, fate and fortune have a habit of occurring where you least expect them- so always be careful what you wish for. We have to know ourselves before we can even begin to relate to others, but that's no guarantee they'll return the favour.

The Ostara Festival

Despite popular neo-pagan attempts to attribute this Celto-Germanic festival to an alleged Spring or dawn goddess, the name Ostara relates more to what was once called the "Ostermonat" in Old High German. However, the idea of months in those ancestral times were lunar, and the festival itself was usually celebrated on the full moon (or Quorn Planting Moon) following the Vernal Equinox, namely when the Sun rose exactly in the East. Thus, as far as etymology is concerned, "Ost" means "East", and "Monat" : month. German specialists in anthropology and archeoforensics have worked meticulously to establish the nature and origins of these festivals and if they were attributed to any particular deities.

This is a complicated task, given that Celto-Germanic pantheons were not only tribally secular, but very much influenced by the geographical nature of their location. In the case of Ostara, any relevence of the title itself to a deity of similar namesake could not be found. What was found in numerous places was matrons of sacred springs and other waters usually honoured that the water be blessed, and in turn, used to bless the naming of newborns. This is not to be confused with Christian baptisms, as the evidence well predates even the arrival of the Romans. Rather, the wights or matron of whatever sacred spring or river's namesake were honored with the offering of garlands. Wells were decorated with these garlands, usually topped off with a crown as seen in my photo. Also, note the wooden plaque with "Wasser ist Leben" (Water is Life).

Naturally, the eggs served part of that offering as a suitable symbol of rebirth. People far removed from the homelands of these traditions tend to wonder what bunnies could possibly have to do with all this. Well, the answer is really quite simple if you think back to how people lived without all the modern conveniences we have today. Of all the animals our ancestors hunted or trapped for food, rabbits are the first to have their young after the winter, thus the first available fresh meat. Indeed, young rabbit is traditionally eaten in SW Germany on this occasion as part of the "Osterfest".