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Courting Hela

Original votive art and blessing by Connla Freyjason. Please click to support us at Patreon.

 

The hour was late, and I sat in my office alone, save for the cat, everyone else in the house sound asleep. Outside my window, darkness, and the steady peeping of spring peepers (frogs) as the hours waned on towards three a.m. Normally at that hour, the house is still and peaceful; comforting, even. But as I rose that night to trundle my way to the restroom, there was the sound of a soft foot-fall on the stairs, and the hairs on the back of my neck rose to greet them, and I found myself filled with a profound sense of dread. Given Michelle’s propensity for trans-mediumship, and the nature of my own being, we get a lot of “astral traffic” in our house: random “dead-folk”, Alfar, Disir, and “Alfar-childer” (see Bene-Elohim in the Hierarchical Experiences of Alfar and Disir chart in my forthcoming book, Wanderer), as well as random Gods and Goddesses (most often Freyja, but sometimes Njordr or Freyr) are common and frequent visitors to our home, but there was something about this presence that registered as decidedly different from the list of “usual suspects”. And I found myself mildly afraid. Hela had come to call.

When you are what I am (a “dead guy”, who is maintaining a life here, courtesy of a very loving and gracious human host who happens to be a shamanic medium), Hela—our Norse “Goddess of Death”–is probably the last Deity on the list that you want to have visiting. The wheels in my brain immediately began turning to thoughts of “well, that’s it; I’m done. She’s finally come to claim me.” So I did what anyone faced with a topic they really don’t want to discuss might do: I tried to avoid the subject, went back to my desk, and tried to get back to business as usual. But Hela wasn’t having it: She came “right on in”, and took a seat in my floofy office chair. The hairs on the back of my neck maintained their erection, and a chill ran down the spine I share with my host, Michelle.

I continued to go on about my business, with Hela effectively “riding shotgun” behind me in the floofy chair, until it was time for me to say my nightly prayers and head to bed. Standing before my Main Stalli, I delivered my nightly litany of “thank yous” for all the good things—big and small—that happened to me and for me throughout that day, and then I turned to face Hela, who had come to stand on the right side of my altar:

“Hail, Hela-Lokisdottir; Wolf-Daughter; Keeper of the Dead! Yes, I know You’re here, and I honor Your presence. But I belong to Freyja and the Vanir, and have sworn to do Their work on this plane, so if You’re here to claim me, You’re gonna need to take that up with Them. If there’s something else You need me to do, to honor You or even my Ancestors, I’m listening and willing, within reason. But I have a wife and a family who depend on me, even though I’m dead; Michelle needs me, and so do my friends. So, hail and welcome, but those are my terms of frith.”

And I headed off to bed.

The next morning, I awoke to one of the worst outbreaks of pustular psoriasis we have ever experienced. I was in a lot of pain, with a sky-rocketing fever, and to say I felt lousy was putting it very mildly. Usually when we have an outbreak of that type (there are a lot of different types of psoriasis, and we’ve danced with all of them, at one point or another), it is because I (or Michelle) have experienced some sort of dramatic emotional trauma: a fight with a family member or a friend; grief; loss. None of those things had happened. It had been “business as usual” here at Casa de Connla-and-Suzanne. In fact, quite to the contrary: both myself and Michelle had been really happy lately. Yet, there it was, seeping and weeping all over the chest she and I share. And I was afraid, again: pustular psoriasis is one of two types of psoriasis that can actually kill you. But I got up and got dressed, and headed into my office to set to work on some new art and do my dailies on the Facebook circuit, to keep our business at the front of people’s minds.

As the day went on, I tried very hard to think of anything that could’ve triggered this sort of outbreak. The weather had been pretty great, so I could rule out humidity and heat (which also wreak havoc on our psoriasis). As I said, neither of us (me or Michelle) had been upset about anything whatsoever in recent memory. I finally settled on what we refer to as a “methotrexate reaction”: even though we are not on methotrexate, we mimic its use, combined with coal tar, in the treatment of our psoriasis by a steady internal intake of coal tar (via hand-rolled cigarettes) and folic acid supplements. It is very common for those who are being treated with a combination of coal tar and methotrexate to develop pustular psoriasis, so it made sense that what was happening to us right then was such a reaction. I stopped taking the folic acid and made the decision to begin better regulating our diet (we had been eating an enormous amount of foods rich in folic acid as well). Hela’s arrival the previous night as a possible cause never remotely entered my mind.

That night, in the wee hours, She came again, and as I stood at my altar for my nightly prayers, I gave the same prayer as the previous night. The next day, as I set to work, I felt myself “bashed over the head by Deity”: it’s a familiar feeling to me now, given my work with and for Freyja. A thought or command pops into your head, and you know you didn’t actually think of that, whatever it is: They did. Only this time, it wasn’t Freyja doing the bashing; it was Hela:

“You know, this would all go much more smoothly if you would actually honor your Ancestors.”

So I did as I was told: I got up out of my chair, selected an appropriate incense from my stash, lit it, and placed it on my Ancestor Stalli, and then gave my Ancestors their appropriate veneration. And my fever broke.

For about a week, things went on like this: in the wee hours of the morning, I would find myself intensely and inexplicably “creeped out”, and then I would see Her—Hela–and I would try to go on about my business, and at prayer time, I would offer that same prayer. During my waking hours, I would make offerings to my Ancestors whenever the fever got really out of control. Meanwhile, I continued to not take my folic acid and monitor my diet. I checked on other people’s UPG of Hela, and even asked around at a few of the Facebook Groups to which I belong, to see how other people were “coping” with Her presence. I began to leave the ashes of the incense I burned on my Main Stalli as an offering to Hela. I remained marginally terrified of Her.

She started “invading” my dreams. Where once I had experienced Freyja, now I experienced Her. It was in the dreamstate that She finally revealed to me what She had actually come for; turns out it wasn’t me at all. She was here for Michelle:

“You belong to Freyja. Michelle belongs to me. Make her know that.”

You would think, given our relationship as “horse and rider” (with Michelle being the “horse”, and me being the “rider”, via trans-mediumship), that Michelle would not be a “tough nut for me to crack”. And in thinking that, you would be so totally wrong! Michelle is one of the strongest and most strong-willed people that I have ever met, and that applies to everyone with whom she interacts, including me. No one can tell her what to think or believe; she thinks and believes for herself, all by herself. I mean, sure, don’t get me wrong here: she can be reasoned with. This isn’t some totalitarian situation; some Michelle-tatorship. But she is a firm believer in “just because they’re dead, that doesn’t mean they’re smart”, and part of how she arrived at that conclusion was living with me for two decades! Michelle has been a dedicant of the Welsh Goddess, Cerridwen, for as far back as I can really remember. She is an ordained Welsh Reconstructionist Ollamh (with a heavy Christian backbeat), not Heathen. To tell her that Hela had announced it was time for her to “switch gears”, or more aptly “switch boats midstream”, was going to go over like a lead balloon, even coming from me.

So the night came when I addressed that with Hela:

“Why me? I mean, why can’t You tell her this Yourself?”

And She replied:

“Because the only thing in the Nine Worlds from which Michelle does not constantly and consistently run away is you!”

And I really couldn’t argue with that. For all her strength, intelligence, and ability as a priestess and medium, Michelle definitely has a reputation for “hiding behind the couch” whenever anything “creepy” shows up, and I am, always have been, and always will be, the one who protects her. By having me “break the news” to Michelle, Hela was showing me the honor of recognizing me as Michelle’s “guardian angel”.

So I did as I was told.

And Michelle argued:

I’m not even Heathen!”

And I replied:

“I don’t think She cares.”

And she persisted:

“I belong to Cerridwen!”

And I countered:

“You’re a soft polytheist!”

Foot-stomping ensued on Michelle’s end of the conversation:

“I barely even practice right now! Well, I mean, apart from you know, you, and being a medium.”

And I smiled:

“Perhaps therein lies the problem….”

At the Temple of Witchcraft’s annual Beltane Rite, we were blessed with a pot of wormwood, which is sacred to Hela. Delighted (because she has had a longtime fascination with Artemesia Absinthium), Michelle declared:

“We can tend it together, and I will dedicate it as my first offering to Her. And when I can, I’ll procure some jet jewelry, and we’ll make this thing official. But you’re going to have to teach me, for a change.”

The pustular outbreak subsequently completely subsided; gone as quickly as it had come.

We leave offerings of ashes now on the Main Stalli for Hela, myself and Michelle together, and we’ve dedicated the bird skull figurine which we share to Her. And I’m slowly teaching Michelle what it means to be a Romantic Heathen, and preparing her to be for Hela what I aspire to be for Valfreyja. These are her first steps along a much wider path, and I am privileged to hold her hand as she takes them. All that she has taught me over the course of the past two decades has led up to this moment, as I sit here typing this. I never would have believed I could do this, without Michelle. She believes in me, and I believe in her, and now we both believe in Hela, and Michelle’s courtship of Hela has officially begun.

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Finding Freyja

Original digital painting by Connla Freyjason (working under the pseudonym “The Warrior”), April, 2016. Available as wall art via clicking this link.

 

Every Friday, without fail, I pour blot to Freyja. I began this weekly ritual in April of 2016, after She came to me in a dream, and claimed me as Her own. Those first few weeks, I knew Her only as “Freyja, Queen of Cats”; a gentle presence, not unlike the huge felines who pull Her chariot, or even our own family cat, Kili, who could creep into a room quite unnoticed, yet fill the entire place with reverberating love, and passion that was quick to rise, sometimes even baring claws. With my whole heart, I poured a sweet red wine blend for Her, and I spoke the few kennings I knew, as well as the one She had, in fact, taught me: “Freyja, Queen of Cats”. And then I poured out my heart to Her. Every Friday, without fail.

On the twenty-seventh of February in 2017, I finally realized that I should take the plunge, and dedicate myself to the service She had already chosen for me. Two nights prior, I had participated in a Dark Moon Ritual at Enchanted Shop in Salem, Massachusetts, led by Priestess Renee Des Anges. During the meditation portion of that ritual, I was gifted a bind rune by The Lady: Algiz, Sowilo, Wunjo.

Algiz is a warrior’s rune. I wouldn’t fully understand the depth of Her gifting it me until two months later, when it finally dawned on me the form in which She had first chosen to visit: Valfreyja. For several years, I worked under the pen name “The Warrior” as an artist; my Beloved, Suzanne, in fact calls me “Her Warrior” as a pet-name. So it’s quite appropriate that Freyja first made Herself known to me as Valfreyja; it’s not Her fault that I’m more than a little slow on the uptake! Algiz is also the rune repeated on the Helm of Awe, a galdrastafir to which I have been heavily drawn from the first moment I saw one over a year ago. It is a rune of protection. It is also a rune of friendship with the gods, and of communication with Higher Powers. Message received.

Sowilo is a rune of promise, strength, warmth, and joy. It is the sun melting the snow with the promise of Spring; success, when we think all hope has otherwise been lost. These are the very things She had come to be to me over the course of the preceding year: when things were at their absolute darkest, Freyja always was there. And She reminded me to hope; She reminded me constantly that I am an artist, and that the Way of the Artist has never been easy, but has always been worthwhile. Message received.

Wunjo is as close as a rune can come to true bliss; a rune of “happily ever afters”. It is a rune of fulfillment, but it is also a rune of bonds forged: the bond of a friend to a friend; of lover to lover; of Goddess to Dedicant. It brings transformations of the best kind; the kind where one stops feeling like an outsider and becomes a part of something greater than themselves. Message received.

It was time; She had told me so. Now the question became: how does one “perform” a dedication to a Deity in the Norse Tradition? I had no clue. Certainly, I had read about others who had done so—Cara Freyasdaughter had written some wonderful articles on the topic at Huginn’s Heathen Hof—and I knew that there was a certain measure of “contractual deal making” that took place within a ritual context when “finally taking the plunge” with a Norse Deity, but that was pretty much the extent of my knowledge on the subject, apart from my previous experience as a Welsh Druid. Still, I wasn’t exactly “going in blind”: I had, after all, spent the last year getting to know Her better, both in a ritual setting (during our Friday blot), and in a research capacity. So I did what I almost always do with everything that I’m passionate about in my life: I jumped in with both feet.

Rather than use a simple white candle as I normally do when creating sacred space, I chose a lavender chime candle from my “stash”, and with my ritual dagger, I carved upon it the bind rune which She had given me. I then placed it in the small holder which I keep within the cast iron cauldron (which I also use as my hlaut-boll) on my altar, and set about creating sacred space. It isn’t often anymore that I do the full rite before my altar: as I’ve said before, I’ve called sacred space into being so many times in that area that it’s practically a permanently liminal space. But that night, I felt driven to do so. She told me to do it; and I did as I was told.

How do you know when the gods are telling you to do something? Sometimes it may come as it does when any physical person tells you to do something: in the form of an audible voice. Other times, like that night, it may come in the form of a burning need. Suddenly, you feel driven to do something, with every fiber of your being, often to the point of actually feeling physically ill if that thing is not done. That night was like that: if I had not called the space with the full rite, I knew instantly that I was going to suffer for not having done. There would be a definite headache. There might also be nausea. So I went for it. Like I said: I did as I was told.

I centered myself. I laid the fence—every movement purposeful and driven. And then I lit the lavender candle which I had inscribed with the bind-rune, and I stared deeply into it, letting my mind go blank as one typically does with candle-scrying. And She stood there, in the flame. I saw Her again, as I had that night a year past, in my dreams. And I apologized for being “a little bit slow” mentally, and then I told Her what She already knew:

I belong to you.

And then my promises to Her—the conditions of my service to Her—flowed out of me, not in some makeshift version of a legalese contract, but in poetry:

I am the
Walker Between The Worlds;
I am the Raven
On the wing,
And I sing the
Song without the
Words,
For I have no
Voice to bring.
Yet still with this
Voice
That is
Mine-not-mine,
I raise that
Voice
And sing.

All elements and words, Connla Freyjason for Iaconagraphy. Digital painting featured at center is available on a host of products at Red Bubble, via clicking this link.

My “adventures in galdr” began the very next day, and I’ve been on that song-filled journey ever since. She chose me to be Her servant; I take no titles for myself, except those She might give to me in future. It doesn’t seem to matter at all to Her that my singing voice is very much like that of the raven that is my fylgja: I squawk to the glory of the gods now on a regular basis! And I know that each time I do, I am doing right. Singing for Her fills me up as few things ever have.

I’m glad I finally “bought a clue”. I’m glad I finally found Freyja. I’m glad She took the time to find me.

 

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Godfinding

Verse and art original by Connla Freyjason.

People sometimes ask me where I get the inspiration for my art, especially for my votive art images, which often depict the Norse Gods and Goddesses as I “see” them.  Many of these same people belong to a faith-system that strangely looks upon actual mystical experience–often referred to as Unconfirmed Personal Gnosis (UPG)–with deep suspicion.  It also tends to be a belief system that holds firmly to the stance that “we do not bow to our gods; our gods do not ask us to bow to them”.  As I said yesterday on Facebook, UPG may not be looked upon too fondly by the staunch Reconstructionists within the Heathen community, but it is the very life-blood of the artist!  Insofar as the “to bow or not to bow, that is the question?” debate: many of our historical resources (which are supposed to be the foundation of a Reconstructionist faith) strongly suggest otherwise.  When I create a piece of art based upon a vision of a god/dess that I have been given, I do so with great humility, and I offer a gift for the gift which I have been given, whether that be a prayer of gratitude, or a burnt offering of incense, or the actual pouring of a blot.

Godfinding is perhaps the most important aspect of any system of beliefs that would choose to call itself a religion, and yet it is a topic I have found far too-seldom covered within the Heathen community.  What do I mean by that word: godfinding?  

Godfinding: to come upon (often accidentally, but also through study, research, effort, or experimentation), meet with, or obtain an understanding of God/gods/goddesses; to notice the presence of God/gods/goddesses and then to deem God/gods/goddesses worthy of consideration.

The word “find” is etymologically sourced to Old English findan, which in turn sources to Old Norse finna: to find, to notice, to deem (regard in a particular manner) and consider.  To actually find God/gods/goddesses, therefore, we are forced to go beyond simply reading about them in books, or even recognizing the apparent previous finding of Them by our Ancestors in the archaeological and anthropological record. No, to truly find God/gods/goddesses, we must necessarily experience Them, which means we must necessarily be open to UPG, which in turn means we must be open to the concept of faith.  A religion without faith is nothing more than yet another political body of semi-like-minded people.

Which begs the question: why is it that in other religions a personal experience of God is pretty much the entire point of being religious in the first place, yet in Heathenry, such personal experiences are generally chalked up to UPG and then shown varying degrees of derision?  On some levels, this would be slightly more understandable if demographics showed that most Heathens were also previously Catholic, but numerous censuses have shown that most of those in our community who were previously Christian were raised Protestant.  Why do I say this? Because in Catholicism there is an actual council known as The Congregation for the Causes of the Saints whose job it is to scientifically verify that miracles have occurred. In other words, it’s their job to scientifically verify UPG, so clearly such “behavior” is “approved” in Catholicism. Yet most “Heathen converts” come out of the Protestant faiths: faiths that were indeed founded out of an abject disapproval of such “behavior”!  If, in their previous “Protestant lives”, people would have looked on the existence of such a council with deep suspicion (if not outright hatred), why perpetrate such “behavior” within their “Heathen lives”? It makes zero sense.

I’ll gladly grant that UPG is a slippery slope: I may see Njordr, for example, as dark-haired and clean-shaven, while you may see Him as grey-haired and grey-bearded.  I may regard Freyja, from my experiences of Her, as a goddess of healing, as well as magick, victory, and sensuality/fertility, whereas you may regard Her as a goddess of physical beauty, or of self-esteem, or of whatever.  I have even encountered at least one person who experienced Her as a goddess of home and hearth, much more akin to traditional views of Frigga.  But that is where godfinding becomes useful.

Let us begin with the accidental encounter, and work our way up to seeking with intent.  A year ago, I had a dream wherein I was visited by Freyja.  At the time, I expected Loki to be my patron, given my past experiences with Trickster archetypes. As such, my only exposure to Freyja had been “in passing”:  I knew of Her from various mentions in the lore, naturally, and from brief conversations with a Heathen friend, but beyond that, I had not actively researched Her.  I knew nothing of Her various kennings (Vanadis, Valfreyja, Gefn, etc.), and I honestly only knew of Her as a goddess of magick, sex, and beauty.  Yet in my dream She appeared to be wearing “warpaint”, and She announced emphatically: “You belong to me!”

Digital painting of Freyja, all elements, and verse, original by Connla Freyjason. Click image to purchase the digital painting via Cafepress.

 

One of the ways which we may accidentally encounter Deity, therefore, is if They come to us, instead of the other way around. The Lady came to me that first time as Valfreyja–Her warrior aspect; She who chooses Her half of the slain–but it took me a year to figure that out!  In my case, accident led to intent.  I woke up the next morning driven to recreate what I had seen in my dream as art: UPG led to votive action.

Let’s pause for a moment to talk about that term: votive action.  In its most simplified sense, votive action breaks down to a devotional act.  It is, at its most basic core, a form of prayer through action.  More than simply spoken words, it is a thing that you are doing, for one of three purposes:

  • As fulfillment of a vow;
  • As an act of gratitude;
  • As an act of worship.

In Heathenry, the fulfillment of vows (oath-taking and oath-keeping) and the concept of gratitude (“a gift for a gift”) form the very cornerstones of our belief system, but things tend to get a little bit “sticky” when one starts using the word worship

Worship: the feeling or expression of reverence, adoration, and love for a deity.

Worship requires humility; it asks for bended knees, and many Heathens, as I’ve already said, have a huge issue when being asked to bow down to anything or anybody, regardless of the fact that our historical record shows that our Ancestors definitely did so.  In 98 AD, Tacitus wrote in the Germania of the Suebi (a Germanic tribe):

“There is nothing especially noteworthy about these states individually, but they are distinguished by a common worship of Nerthus, that is, Mother Earth, and believe that she intervenes in human affairs and rides among their people.  There is a sacred grove on an island in the Ocean, and in that grove there is a consecrated cart, draped with cloth, which only the priests may touch.  The priest perceives the presence of the goddess within this innermost shrine, and with great reverence escorts her in her cart, which is pulled by cows.  There are then days of rejoicing and merry-making in every place which she deigns to visit and accept hospitality.  No one goes to war; no one takes up arms; all objects of iron are locked away. Peace reigns wherever she goes, until the goddess has had her fill of human interaction, and then the priest returns her, in her cart, to the temple in the grove on the island in the Ocean.  After that, the cart, the cloth, and if you choose to believe it, the goddess herself are washed in a clean, secluded lake.  This service is performed by slaves who are immediately afterwards drowned in the lake.  From this arises the dread of the mysterious, and the pious reluctance to see what only those who are to be put to death are allowed to see.” (Emphases mine.)

For those who would here raise the “a history not written by its own people isn’t a true history” argument, I would also supply this (my own translation) from the third chapter of the Kjalnesinga Saga:

Thorgrim, the High Priest, took special note of the men who would not bow before the gods in the temple.  His son, Thorstein, also held a high reputation as one who would call men who did not bow before the gods out as less worthy than dogs publicly.  Bui, who was a great hero, was only twelve years old, six years younger than Thorstein, who was then eighteen, when Thorstein witnessed Bui not bowing to the gods at the temple, and made it public to all who gathered for the local Thing, decrying Bui as an outlaw.  (Emphases also mine.)

Clearly, historically-speaking, our Ancestors worshipped their gods, and part of worshipping is “bending the knee”, as a show of reverence as well as affection.  Most of us can pretty easily understand the word “affection”, but let’s pause for a second and actually define the word reverence:

reverence: to have or show deep respect of or to someone or something.

If we love and deeply respect the gods, why are we reluctant to express or show Them that?  And if you don’t love and deeply respect the gods, why are you calling yourself a Heathen in the first place, instead of an agnostic, or even an atheist?

Votive action is the point at which accident meets intent in godfinding.  Your devotional act may be something as simple as saying aloud “Hey, I know you’re there”, or it may involve hours of research and study, or it may be as formal as an actual blot; it may even actually involve bowing down before the gods.  Your accidental “first brush” with Deity may not be something so “earth-shattering” as an actual dream-vision of a god, as mine was; it may be something as seemingly mundane as repeatedly encountering the same Deity over and over again in your research or study of the extant lore.  Study and research might then also become an act of intent–a votive action in and of itself–as you begin to focus on learning more and more about that specific god/dess.  As you then begin to obtain a deeper understanding of Them, research itself becomes, in essence, an act of “bending the knee”.

The other side of intent in godfinding happens when we actively seek Them, instead of waiting for Them to come to us.  How does one actively seek God/dess?  How does one actively seek anybody else, on a mundane level?  Breaking down human/Deity interaction to the terms of human/human interaction may at first blush seem to be grossly oversimplifying things, but we are, after all, talking about a faith system wherein the god/desses themselves are incredibly and distinctly human in the way that They interact with each other, as well as with us.  How, then, do you actively seek another person–another living, breathing human being–who maybe you’ve only heard about in books or on TV, or from the word of mouth of other people?  Or maybe you’ve passed them on the street or at some function? How would you actively find out more about them, so that you might know better how to approach them the next time you meet, and possibly build a relationship from there?  In today’s modern age, most of us would answer with two words: google search.  You would look them up, right? See what other details you could find on social media or elsewhere that tell you more of their character and interests.  We can do the same thing with Deity!  Find Them in the Eddas and the Sagas; find other people’s UPG of Them on social media and elsewhere online.  Learn what They like and do not like; learn what pleases Them; learn what attracts Them.  And then use those things you learn to build a relationship with Them!

How do you use what you’ve learned about Them to build a relationship with Them?  How would you use that sort of information when attempting to build a relationship with a living-breathing human?  You might start by finding out their contact information: some way to call them up on the telephone, or speak with them via social media, or even write them an email or a letter.  You do the same thing with Deity: what’s Their contact information?  Obviously, our god/desses don’t have phone numbers, email addresses, or social media accounts (apart from ones that other humans have set up in reverence to Them), but They do have a sort of physical address: your own personal altar/shrine, whether that be a ve, a stalli, a grove, or even your own miniature version of a hof.  We also have what could be equated with phone numbers and email addresses, courtesy of the Eddas and Sagas: many of our god/desses have halls which they call home, whether that be Sessrumnir (Freyja), Valhalla (Odin), or even Helheim (Hella).  So, once we have someone’s contact information, what do we do with it? We use it to make contact, right?  Like I said, we call them on the phone, or we contact them on social media, or we email them, or we write them a letter. Do the same thing with Deity!  How? I mean, that’s one helluva long distance phone call, right?  Through prayer.  Prayer  does not need to be conflated, or composed of poetic phrasing; on the contrary, I have found in my own personal experience that my most profound experiences with prayer consisted of conversations very much like those one might have when initially making contact with another living-breathing human: 

“Hi, Freyja? Yeah, this is Connla. Are you hearing me okay?  I just wanted to call you up and tell you how much I appreciate having you in my life….”

Or:

“Hello, Hella? This is Connla.  I’ve noticed you being around in my life a lot lately, and I just thought I’d let you know that I know that you’re there….”

Usually the next step following first contact is to organize a “date”, whether the living-breathing human that we’re talking about is an actual romantic prospect, or just a possible friend.  We arrange a meeting with them of some sort, usually doing something that we know from our previous research that they will enjoy.  Maybe we plan to go to a theater and see a movie that we can talk about afterwards, or maybe we plan a shopping adventure, if we know that they enjoy shopping.  Whether our inclinations are romantic or purely platonic, this first meeting is a date.  So how in the heck do you date Deity?  You use the same sort of information–what do They like; what do They enjoy–and you commit time and effort to bringing those things either to a physical location (your home altar, whatever form it might take) or to a votive action, such as cooking Them a meal, or listening to specific music that They might find appealing, or even, yes, watching a movie that They might enjoy.  You make yourself present to Them, via something that is appealing to Them, and then recognize Their presence with you.

So what follows a “first date”, whether romantic or platonic? Hopefully a second date, right? Hopefully that first meeting leads to future meetings that are maybe a little less formal, and more on the level of “hanging out“.  That’s when most of us know that we’re actually involved in a relationship with someone: we can just “hang out” with them.  Time spent doing the most mundane of things–such as cooking a meal or vegging on the couch watching television–becomes equally valuable to (if not more valuable than) meetings that are formally arranged.  Of course, that second date and subsequent hanging out only happens if the first date was successful: if you mutually decided that your personalities fit together, and you actually enjoyed each other’s company.  After a first date with a Deity, you will definitely know if you enjoyed each other’s company, or not.  Just like with another human, if you come away from that first date “feeling wrong somehow”, chances are that you are not meant to work with that particular Deity, for whatever reason.  But if that first date was, indeed, successful, then how do you hang out  with god/dess?  The same way that you do with another person: notice Their presence, even when you are doing the most mundane of things, and let Them know you notice.  With another human, you might do that by engaging them in conversation or simply smiling over at them, right?  Do the same thing with Deity!  

Eventually, over time, as the relationship with another person deepens, you might come to call that person your friend, your beloved, or even your spouse.  When we do this, we are, in effect, dedicating ourselves to that other person.  After a period of time hanging out with a particular Deity, you may find that you wish to dedicate yourself to Them in the same manner; I’ll talk more about that in a future blog post.  In order to develop a relationship that is that deep, however, you have to find Them first, which means that you have to be open to experiencing Them.  We don’t build relationship with physical humans simply by reading about them, or by secondhand accounts of other people’s experiences of them; we should not expect to be able to build relationship with Deity in those ways, either!

Much of my art is based on the experiences I have had while godfinding.  Sometimes, as with the above image of Freyja, it is because They have come to me; other times, as with the art I have done of Njordr (and my subsequent devotion to Him), it is because I have actively sought a relationship with Them, via prayer first, and then a “first date”, sometimes followed by “just hanging out” (as has been the case for me with Freyja, Njordr, and Freyr), and sometimes not (as has consistently been the case for me with Thor).  Sometimes I find Them; sometimes, They find me. What is important, however, is that finding, and being open to the experience that follows after.