“Fate always goes as it must.” – Beowulf c.800 I.455
There have been storms of late.
Moments of terrible tumultuous change vibrating through every iota of the universe, encapsulated in physical ballets of destruction across the world, as nature echoes the spiritual landscape. Then alongside these crescendos of chaotic will are moments of stillness and silence, almost pregnant pauses that seem to punctuate this riotous ballad, and the contrast is so stark that it almost lends to an eeriness that is typical of the stereotype of Halloween – Samhain, but is usually not present in the actual experience from year to year. This severe swing between noise and silence however is unsettling.
There are moments when the Earth lunges, screaming, howling, and tearing itself apart. Then there are mornings where the bird song is all that can be heard for hours. There are moments when humans rage at each other, screeching insult and threat for those expressing an opinion or defending other people. The weird backlash against the Metoo campaign has caught many peoples attention, as we watch the sad washing of intolerant responses and mocking degradation.
In spiritual terms, this bizarre swing has felt, to me at least, to be Wyrd related; as the focus of late has been peering into the conceptualisation of the Web of Wyrd, followed by the shadowy Norn energies who are ever present and yet largely silent, following just out of the line of sight, whispering in barely audible tones.
Image – Natalia Drepina
In placing a mask of Wyrd against the skin of the Witch, it tests our willingness to embrace our Other Eyes to the extreme; how can we perceive that which we barely comprehend? Limitlessness, otherness, and the void are concepts that are eternal, ever expanding, just like the universe in which we live.
They are the quite pauses of the Divine, who speak through endless extremities of their cosmic being, and then take a deep breath to allow the silence in.
For in silence, there is every possible thought, and in true silence, there is nothing at all.
Nothingness is a concept that frightens many of us. T
o the human mind, becoming nothing is barely conceivable, how can we experience or consider that which is so far removed from the human experience? We are always thinking, be it consciously or subconsciously… we are always feeling, and acting, and to undo all of that is to pick away at the threads of what it means to be human…
The mask of the Wyrd is unsettling, and faces us with many shadow elements of ourselves; what it is to be surrounded by silence, where no one is listening or speaking, and cannot even perceive us as being there. Stripped of our senses we are not just isolated, but truly naked, vulnerable, and alone.
To be submerged in this energy brings a wyrd sort of wisdom, as we can begin to realign and recognise how interconnected we are with regards to the spiritual ecosystem; for having felt, even for a moment, what true isolation must be like, then we being to appreciate being interconnected.
Further, that silent wearing of the mask of Wyrd sharpens our senses, our Other ears and intuitions, that lead us to trust our instincts when receiving messages from the Other side, from Spirits, Ancestors, and Deities. For having felt the absence of such presence, we realise that we must overcome the natural human reflex to dismiss and doubt ourselves, our purpose, our spiritual significance. We can trust the pattern in the weaving of the Wyrd a little more having seen what it would be to be without it.
There is something in the discomfort of having felt alone. It happens to us all, at some point, the aching, gnawing sensation that drives us to seek out like minds, connect with tribe, and to speak…
Our voices are highlighted in the mask of Wyrd, for once you are restrained from using it, you realise the remarkable gift that shines from within; the power and the glory of the human ability to communicate, in all forms.
What a waste it is to see that gift devolve into violent thought form, but yet again to see that change must come from these destructive storms. The rising of a hateful tirade may be underway, and they may be sure of their power. But they forgot, the power of those that have been forced to be silent.
Those who know their mind, and will, always, stand against the storm, providing shelter for their fellow human beings.
Speak Starlet. The time is now.
Stay Fluxy and Many blessings
– Joey Morris 2017 All my own work all rights reserved