Alchemy is a concept that many of us are familiar with, even if only in passing. Alchemy is the refinement of base materials into something more useful -- traditionally a question of chemistry and used in apothecary applications, but also expanding into legend as a source of incredible power including the fabled ability to transform lead into gold. I don't fully buy into most of that. Much of what alchemy once represented has been supplanted by modern science and demystified by the knowledge of chemical compounds and the manufacture of both chemical medications and modern holistic medicine. We now know enough about alloys to understand that, in theory, one can take a lead based alloy and make it appear to be similar to gold, with the proper combinations, and we know that any sort of potions and elixirs were just clever uses of roots and herbs to stimulate the proper chemical responses in the human body.
The philosophical aspects, however, remain relevant, even today. Alchemy wasn't just a profession for chemists and medicine men, it was a way of life. The notion of changing one sort of matter into another was representative of our need for enlightenment. Indeed, this was the foundation of what motivated the pursuit of alchemy. Rather than being motivated by greed (a more modern view of turning lead into gold), alchemists were driven by the reward of seemingly limitless potential that awaited them in mastering their trade. That part of the concept isn't lost to us.
I try to walk the path of personal alchemy, in hopes of refining myself into something better. The prime motivator behind my current pursuit of artistic advancement, physical fitness, and meditative practices come back to that same path. By focusing on personal improvement as a philosophy, one should seek to shore up weaknesses; what made base materials in alchemy such an important part of the philosophy was that they were readily available and relatively worthless on their own. For me, my artwork has always been fairly one-dimensional and limited to a certain style and medium; I have pursued multiple other styles and media to broaden my potential, with varying degrees of success. I've never been in the best shape physically (to the point where I weighed 320 pounds at age 16), but I am currently in the best shape of my life, getting regular exercise and better nutrition. The meditation I'm still working on; not having the time to properly focus and relax makes it very difficult to master the technique.
Ultimately, I think this is a process that any belief system should be able to get on board with. We all have room for improvement, but we also have different paths to follow to get there. It's all a matter of figuring out what your weaknesses are and pursuing a way to compensate, be it through strengthening the weakness or finding another strength that can do the same job. This is, of course, very similar to the nature of self-help literature that can be found almost anywhere. The difference lies in the ultimate goal of the refinement of those weaknesses. The end goal isn't merely to shore up weaknesses and become a better person in the view of the world around you. The goal is a spiritual metamorphosis.
The process of performing personal alchemy is very much akin to that of turning lead into gold in the metaphysical sense, rather than the scientific sense of creating an alloy with similar properties. Rather than simply being a superficial improvement, the process pursues a change to the very core of your being. This is the entire notion of a genuine change; it isn't forced, it becomes a natural part of yourself, one so intrinsic that you no longer recognize that your former state was your own. You must leave the shell of your former self behind you and all of the baggage that comes with it. It's about abandoning the flaws that plague us.
I've by no means completed my journey on this path, and doubt that I ever will. With every weakness that I overcome, I discover others that I will have to turn attention to in the future. It's an ongoing process that is the ultimate life's work. Personal alchemy is not and will never be an easy path, but it is one that is rewarding and quite enriching at every turn. Flaws are part of being human, and no matter how far we may progress, they will remain a constant; what separates us from those limitations is our willingness to accept that those flaws exist and our dedication to proving that they can be overcome.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Fenris: Embracing the Dark Side
I'm going to go into something that can be a bit controversial in the pagan community. There's a lot of talk about white magic and black magic. Those who are willing to go a bit beyond the harmless prayers for protection or health and delve into a more selfish pursuit of their own interests -- often at the expense of others -- are said to be "on the left-hand path". Now these assertions are more commonly associated with Wicca and with pseudo-Christian offshoots (ie Satanism -- yes indeed, kiddies; if you as a Christian recognize Satan as an entity, you too are a polytheist!), but there are still some funny looks one gets as a traditional pagan for letting the darker side of the myths in.
A few months ago, however, I had a bit of a personal epiphany that I should have had a long time ago, and that I'm sure I'm not the only one who has reached. I was re-reading the Eddas, in particular the Ragnarok myth, and reflecting on the nature of Fenris. Here we have an entity who is half-divine and gifted with tremendous strength, bound by unbreakable restraints for his entire existence, and destined to bring the end to the established order. Fenris' destiny is to kill Odin, the lord of the Aesir who spared the wolf's life and ensured that he would survive long enough to do so, and to be slain in the process by another. I began to ponder, as I often do, on the nature of the "end of the world" myths in general, and saw the pattern once again in Ragnarok as with the Mayan and native-American traditions; the end is only temporary, as a new beginning will come soon after.
Yes, Fenris is indeed a grim entity. This dark force is necessary, however, to stimulate change. Without Fenris, the events of Ragnarok would ultimately leave the status-quo, with Odin remaining at the vanguard of the Aesir -- there would be no end-of-days, only a tragic rebuilding of the old world. However, I began to look upon society as a whole today. As the corruption flows through society, can one deny that we need a Fenris-aspect to bring about a change in the modern age? Obviously, I don't view it as a scenario where Odin would be the one to fall before the fangs; my more eclectic pagan view includes a healthy amount of respect for all world religions, if not for the churches associated with them. The simple reality is that the gods and goddesses of the old traditions are no longer a representative of the status-quo; the old ways are no longer insular, as we are no longer broken into regional tribes, but rather united as a global community. Indeed, a Fenris-aspect in modern times would suggest that it would be the fall of something more universally dominant. Be it the fall of overly-aggressive capitalism, socially confining class warfare, the subversive presence of the Christian church seeking to overwhelm American society, or any number of other corrupting influences, a change does indeed feel imminent.
I'm proud to add Fenris as one of my patron entities. I've gained a great deal of respect for him as a divine force, despite his opposition to Odin, and in some ways, I would say that I've grown to identify more with Fenris than any other at this point. Perhaps that is a factor of my own desire for change in recent months, but the wolf in unbreakable bonds should not be feared as he once was. The same goes for other seemingly sinister forces; names like Loki, Balor, Hades, Apep -- and yes, even Lucifer -- are not necessarily the enemy of humanity. Sometimes these antagonistic figures are simply that -- antagonists that urge us into action and provoke change for the good of us all.
So here's to embracing that darkness and accepting that the world is not all light. Walk the middle path, and do not become blinded by either.
A few months ago, however, I had a bit of a personal epiphany that I should have had a long time ago, and that I'm sure I'm not the only one who has reached. I was re-reading the Eddas, in particular the Ragnarok myth, and reflecting on the nature of Fenris. Here we have an entity who is half-divine and gifted with tremendous strength, bound by unbreakable restraints for his entire existence, and destined to bring the end to the established order. Fenris' destiny is to kill Odin, the lord of the Aesir who spared the wolf's life and ensured that he would survive long enough to do so, and to be slain in the process by another. I began to ponder, as I often do, on the nature of the "end of the world" myths in general, and saw the pattern once again in Ragnarok as with the Mayan and native-American traditions; the end is only temporary, as a new beginning will come soon after.
Yes, Fenris is indeed a grim entity. This dark force is necessary, however, to stimulate change. Without Fenris, the events of Ragnarok would ultimately leave the status-quo, with Odin remaining at the vanguard of the Aesir -- there would be no end-of-days, only a tragic rebuilding of the old world. However, I began to look upon society as a whole today. As the corruption flows through society, can one deny that we need a Fenris-aspect to bring about a change in the modern age? Obviously, I don't view it as a scenario where Odin would be the one to fall before the fangs; my more eclectic pagan view includes a healthy amount of respect for all world religions, if not for the churches associated with them. The simple reality is that the gods and goddesses of the old traditions are no longer a representative of the status-quo; the old ways are no longer insular, as we are no longer broken into regional tribes, but rather united as a global community. Indeed, a Fenris-aspect in modern times would suggest that it would be the fall of something more universally dominant. Be it the fall of overly-aggressive capitalism, socially confining class warfare, the subversive presence of the Christian church seeking to overwhelm American society, or any number of other corrupting influences, a change does indeed feel imminent.
I'm proud to add Fenris as one of my patron entities. I've gained a great deal of respect for him as a divine force, despite his opposition to Odin, and in some ways, I would say that I've grown to identify more with Fenris than any other at this point. Perhaps that is a factor of my own desire for change in recent months, but the wolf in unbreakable bonds should not be feared as he once was. The same goes for other seemingly sinister forces; names like Loki, Balor, Hades, Apep -- and yes, even Lucifer -- are not necessarily the enemy of humanity. Sometimes these antagonistic figures are simply that -- antagonists that urge us into action and provoke change for the good of us all.
So here's to embracing that darkness and accepting that the world is not all light. Walk the middle path, and do not become blinded by either.
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Personal Totems
Following up on my previous post...
Choosing your totems is a deeply personal process and one open to interpretive selection. It may seem simple at first: look up the typical symbolism associated with the totem and see if the proverbial shoe fits. The reality is a bit more involved. What if your view on the totem is different from that held by the majority of the occult community? Does that make you wrong for seeing things in a different light? No; well, not as long as you can support your perspective with a well-thought out and well-reasoned answer. This is one of the many reasons not to concern yourself with seemingly cliched totem choices. Totemic spirits have gained that place in lore for a reason: these animals/beasts (as yes, even mythic beasts count as potential totems) serve a specific purpose that has made them important to humanity at one point or another. As an example, I'm going to share my own key totems and a bit on the reasons I've chosen them.
As a bit of a primer, I do feel that I should note that I've chosen my totems based on my ancestry. This isn't necessary, nor is it really relevant, but my spirituality being what it is, the link to tradition reinforces the bond. My totemic core connects to the heart of Irish myth with a healthy dose from the Norse influences that I've incorporated in recent years. Beyond that, I tend to use a more primal visual aspect when undergoing any sort of meditation, often going back to prehistory when possible. This is more a matter of personal preference; I do so as an effort to connect with a more or less pure state of the universe before humanity had a chance to start mucking it all up.
By far the most important totem for me is and has always been the corvidae, ravens and crows. Before I even started to really look into pagan traditions, these keenly intelligent and inquisitive birds fascinated me. As I took those first steps into the pagan path, they became far more important. As aspects of the Morrigan in Irish tradition (the goddesses Nemain and Babd both manifested as ravens) and as pets of Odin in the Norse tradition (Hugin and Mugin, memory and wisdom), the corvids are connected to both of my key patron gods (and in an odd coincidence, my name is an adaptation of the Welsh name for ravens; go figure). Not surprisingly considering the mythology, the corvid is a totem of the mind. These birds are among the most intelligent to be found, capable of mimicking speech, forming elaborate social bonds, and demonstrating impressive memory. For me, ravens and crows represent this primal sort of intelligence that we've lost touch with, one focused on survival and innovation without the niceties that we confine ourselves within. Ravens are very much the mental part of my totemic core, and one that I never leave behind; I wear a necklace that I've removed perhaps twice in the last year and a half with a simple silhouette of a raven on it for a reason, after all.
The second key totem is one that I never really connected with until recent shifts in my perspective. I never really associated myself with the wolf due to the cliches attached to them. Many of the more out-there types in the occult community, particularly when dealing with those who support the concept of a spirit-beast/animal-soul paradigm, default to the wolf as the standard (lycanthropy has its roots in Euro-descended cultures for a reason; sometimes the cliche makes sense, after all). In light of my newfound connection to the Fenris myth (which will likely be a future subject in its own right), the wolf has gained a higher importance for me as a totemic symbol. Much as the ancients did, I view the wolf as a predatory agent of change. The wolf, for me, is a dual-aspected symbol. On the one hand, the wolf is the lurker in the darkness, waiting for the weakened members of the herd to wander too far from the safety of numbers and become vulnerable -- the wolf encourages evolution through thinning out the weak, serving as a representative of survival of the fittest. On the other, the wolf represents the safety of the pack -- the fundamental reward of keeping in close with those you can trust and forming strong bonds with those who can shore up your own weaknesses with their strengths. This duality combines to perform both tasks at once, reminding you that not only do you need to refine your weaknesses, but you need to remember the value of others in supporting those weaknesses you've yet to overcome. The wolf is very much the spiritual component of my totemic core for that very reason.
That would seem to leave the physical aspect, eh? Most fitting from my totemic core for that would be the bull. Bulls are often associated with fertility and with agriculture, which is all well and good, but has nothing to do with why I connect with them. For me, the bull is a symbol of the warrior ideal. Warriors, as I see them, should be calm and accommodating when at peace, but ready to unleash their full destructive fury when pressed. Bulls present that same potential. By and large, the bull in the wild spends its life grazing in the fields and striving to avoid falling prey to predators, while its domestic counterparts have served dutifully as work animals and provide great nourishment. When forced to action, however, bulls can be as fierce as any beast and easily remind us of their incredible strength. This, to me, is far more valuable than any sort of devotion to the tiger or lion (more aggressive, predatory physical totems) as it has a much more accessible relation to daily life. What good is great strength in a society where using it would make you either intolerable or a mere brute? Far better to build that strength in the off-chance it may be needed and to be able to defend oneself as a last resort. I suspect that in a different age, I may have chosen differently here; hundreds of years ago, in the age of the sword, one would do very well to invoke the lion. Perhaps it is a sign of humanity's domestication of itself that selecting a beast of burden would make so much sense.
There are, of course, others that I find valuable. The Irish Elk is a strong candidate, as is the great bear. Dragons are, in all honesty, a bit too versatile for my liking as a totem, though they are excellent for heraldry and iconography. Perhaps more than any other aspect of esoteric pagan belief, totemic thinking is an interpretive art and your mileage may vary. Ultimately, you just have to sort out what is most important and most relevant to your needs.
Choosing your totems is a deeply personal process and one open to interpretive selection. It may seem simple at first: look up the typical symbolism associated with the totem and see if the proverbial shoe fits. The reality is a bit more involved. What if your view on the totem is different from that held by the majority of the occult community? Does that make you wrong for seeing things in a different light? No; well, not as long as you can support your perspective with a well-thought out and well-reasoned answer. This is one of the many reasons not to concern yourself with seemingly cliched totem choices. Totemic spirits have gained that place in lore for a reason: these animals/beasts (as yes, even mythic beasts count as potential totems) serve a specific purpose that has made them important to humanity at one point or another. As an example, I'm going to share my own key totems and a bit on the reasons I've chosen them.
As a bit of a primer, I do feel that I should note that I've chosen my totems based on my ancestry. This isn't necessary, nor is it really relevant, but my spirituality being what it is, the link to tradition reinforces the bond. My totemic core connects to the heart of Irish myth with a healthy dose from the Norse influences that I've incorporated in recent years. Beyond that, I tend to use a more primal visual aspect when undergoing any sort of meditation, often going back to prehistory when possible. This is more a matter of personal preference; I do so as an effort to connect with a more or less pure state of the universe before humanity had a chance to start mucking it all up.
By far the most important totem for me is and has always been the corvidae, ravens and crows. Before I even started to really look into pagan traditions, these keenly intelligent and inquisitive birds fascinated me. As I took those first steps into the pagan path, they became far more important. As aspects of the Morrigan in Irish tradition (the goddesses Nemain and Babd both manifested as ravens) and as pets of Odin in the Norse tradition (Hugin and Mugin, memory and wisdom), the corvids are connected to both of my key patron gods (and in an odd coincidence, my name is an adaptation of the Welsh name for ravens; go figure). Not surprisingly considering the mythology, the corvid is a totem of the mind. These birds are among the most intelligent to be found, capable of mimicking speech, forming elaborate social bonds, and demonstrating impressive memory. For me, ravens and crows represent this primal sort of intelligence that we've lost touch with, one focused on survival and innovation without the niceties that we confine ourselves within. Ravens are very much the mental part of my totemic core, and one that I never leave behind; I wear a necklace that I've removed perhaps twice in the last year and a half with a simple silhouette of a raven on it for a reason, after all.
The second key totem is one that I never really connected with until recent shifts in my perspective. I never really associated myself with the wolf due to the cliches attached to them. Many of the more out-there types in the occult community, particularly when dealing with those who support the concept of a spirit-beast/animal-soul paradigm, default to the wolf as the standard (lycanthropy has its roots in Euro-descended cultures for a reason; sometimes the cliche makes sense, after all). In light of my newfound connection to the Fenris myth (which will likely be a future subject in its own right), the wolf has gained a higher importance for me as a totemic symbol. Much as the ancients did, I view the wolf as a predatory agent of change. The wolf, for me, is a dual-aspected symbol. On the one hand, the wolf is the lurker in the darkness, waiting for the weakened members of the herd to wander too far from the safety of numbers and become vulnerable -- the wolf encourages evolution through thinning out the weak, serving as a representative of survival of the fittest. On the other, the wolf represents the safety of the pack -- the fundamental reward of keeping in close with those you can trust and forming strong bonds with those who can shore up your own weaknesses with their strengths. This duality combines to perform both tasks at once, reminding you that not only do you need to refine your weaknesses, but you need to remember the value of others in supporting those weaknesses you've yet to overcome. The wolf is very much the spiritual component of my totemic core for that very reason.
That would seem to leave the physical aspect, eh? Most fitting from my totemic core for that would be the bull. Bulls are often associated with fertility and with agriculture, which is all well and good, but has nothing to do with why I connect with them. For me, the bull is a symbol of the warrior ideal. Warriors, as I see them, should be calm and accommodating when at peace, but ready to unleash their full destructive fury when pressed. Bulls present that same potential. By and large, the bull in the wild spends its life grazing in the fields and striving to avoid falling prey to predators, while its domestic counterparts have served dutifully as work animals and provide great nourishment. When forced to action, however, bulls can be as fierce as any beast and easily remind us of their incredible strength. This, to me, is far more valuable than any sort of devotion to the tiger or lion (more aggressive, predatory physical totems) as it has a much more accessible relation to daily life. What good is great strength in a society where using it would make you either intolerable or a mere brute? Far better to build that strength in the off-chance it may be needed and to be able to defend oneself as a last resort. I suspect that in a different age, I may have chosen differently here; hundreds of years ago, in the age of the sword, one would do very well to invoke the lion. Perhaps it is a sign of humanity's domestication of itself that selecting a beast of burden would make so much sense.
There are, of course, others that I find valuable. The Irish Elk is a strong candidate, as is the great bear. Dragons are, in all honesty, a bit too versatile for my liking as a totem, though they are excellent for heraldry and iconography. Perhaps more than any other aspect of esoteric pagan belief, totemic thinking is an interpretive art and your mileage may vary. Ultimately, you just have to sort out what is most important and most relevant to your needs.
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