Meowington, The Temple Cat, Is Dying

60088448_10217637063025595_997261981310255104_n-1On Tuesday, I pulled a weed in my yard, and found this–a baby rattlesnake curled in the warm earth. I placed a flowerpot (no hole in the bottom) over it and tried to find someone to come get it, for relocation. Of course, where there is one baby rattlesnake, there may be others. When the wonderful snake rescue woman arrived that evening, we found that the snake had somehow escaped from beneath the pot which I’d thought was far too heavy for such a little thing to move. We looked around, carefully, but did not find it under any nearby shrubbery or weeds. I hoped it had gone for good.

On Wednesday, as usual, I let Meowington out of Lokabrenna Tiny Temple, where he sleeps during the nights. Days, he wanders the neighborhood and guards my yard against other cats. But he can’t guard it against wildlife. My property backs up against a ridge of oaks and pines and wildness. (We’ve had a mama bear and two cubs wandering the neighborhood this week as well.) Yes, I was worried about rattlesnakes, but he made it through last summer unscathed and so I hoped for the best. I wish now I’d just kept him inside the temple that day.

By early evening I was calling for him, as usual, to come get his dinner. I called and called.

Meanwhile, I fed Grey Girl, the far more feral cat that–along with Meowington and one other–had been left behind on my property last year by a troubled couple who up and moved to Tennessee on short notice. I recall this with some resentment. I already have four indoor cats, and these folks basically dumped three of theirs on me, saying they couldn’t take them and would I feed them and yes they’d send money every month for food. I didn’t count on that money of course. I knew better. But perhaps I should have made them take these three “spare cats” elsewhere? But if I had, I wouldn’t have had the great pleasure of getting to know Meowington.

I called and called some more. And Meowington still didn’t come. I began to worry. And then finally I saw him tottering around the corner of the temple, a cobweb and a leaf stuck to his face. I brushed the leaf away and picked him up. He was shaking, breathing raggedly and hard. He kept trying to meow but couldn’t make a sound. Normally Meowington is an extremely chatty cat. He follows me around when I’m working in the yard. He’s also great at head-butting and adores tummy rubs. He’s also usually anxious for his meal, pushing his nose and mouth into the bowl as I dole out the food. But not on Wednesday evening. He was an entirely different cat, shocky, sick, unable to eat, though he was thirsty. I was worried he’d been bit, but I saw no blood. I set him down on a clean towel and left the temple to get a cat crate. I wasn’t sure who would be open for emergency care, but I was going to get him some.

Had he been bitten? Or had he been bullied by the big black and white cat who occasionally has it in for him? The only other time I’d seen him in something like this condition was after a fight with that cat.

When I returned, Meowington had somehow climbed up to the small storage loft in the rafters where I could not reach him. I tried to coax him down. He wouldn’t come. So I kept the food and water out, and left the temple with forboding, locking him in for the night. I half expected him to be dead in the morning. If was rattlesnake venom, I assumed his death would be quick.

Wrong.

The next morning (yesterday), Meowington was down on the floor again, waiting by the door as he usually does. I was touched that he made this immense effort, though he was still obviously in bad shape. He has always trusted to our routine, to his knowledge that I will always show up in the morning to feed him and let him out. I immediately put him in the cat crate, meaning to whisk him off to the vet at the earliest possible time. Unfortunately, the vet couldn’t see him until 3 PM that afternoon. That was yesterday. I kept him in the crate all day, with food and water, but he only ate a little. I showed up an hour early for our appointment, hoping we could be seen earlier.

When the vet assistant helped him out of the crate. there was a little blood. And when the vet examined him, there was evidence of a bite on his belly, with tissue already going necrotic. The vet explained that a bite on the belly was worrisome–that internal organs may be quickly damaged by the snake’s venom. Still, she gave me reason to hope. Some animals do recover, she said, and she laid out a course of treatment. She did not recommend the antivenin as she said some cats have bad reactions to it. We went for something more conservative (and less expensive): pain medications, antibiotics, laser treatment to improve healing.

I brought Meowington into the house and set him up with towels, food, water, and a litter box, in the shower stall since it was the only small, quiet area away from the other cats. They’ve only interacted with him through the screen door. I didn’t bring him into the household as he is very territorial and I was afraid he’d terrorize the other male cat, Niblet, who has been freaked out for a whole year about the two “extra” cats who joined our post-Hawai’i household. A month or two ago, I had Meowington neutered and got him his shots, in the hopes of finding him a new home–a one cat household where he could be adored and adoring to his fullest potential.

I wish I’d done things differently now. I wish I’d been more aggressive about finding him a new home. I wish I hadn’t let him out of the temple on Wednesday. And I wish yesterday that I’d had the courage to ask the doctor to just put him to sleep.

Because this morning he hasn’t eaten, drunk, eliminated, and he’s clearly suffering. He is lethargic, his breathing is ragged. I’ve been checking on him off and on, ever since I woke up. He wants to stay in the (unused) litter box, not the towel. (He used to love to roll around in the dirt!). I gave him more pain medicine. He vomited it up shortly after. I’ve pet him, stroked him, sang to him, and told him that it was okay to let go–that we’ve loved each other but that now it’s okay… he can go.

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Meowington, May 15th, in a final upright and seemingly perky moment. I am sorry, dear friend, we are going to have to part. I love you.

Dammit.

Sometimes I think we give our best love to animals, because they love us so unconditionally. We can give to them (if we give at all), without our stupid human complications getting in the way.

I love Meowington. I procrastinated about giving him up to another home even though I knew I should. I hoped yesterday that he could rally, could beat the venom. It was a selfish hope.

Later this morning, I’ll take him to the vet again–he was supposed to get another laser treatment–and then I’ll let him go.

I’ve asked Freya, Bastet, and Loki for the best possible outcome. I ask them now to ease his passage.

Rest in peace, cat.

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Meowington in his glory. Died at the vet’s office in Clearlake, CA shortly before 11 AM, PST. He was an awfully good cat.

 

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Loki and Spam

Okay, I really don’t have a godphone to Loki, like some folks do. Every now and then I get “pings” or even more definite gut-level tugs. I often feel a presence. Once in a while I’ve “heard” a strong message, like “no!” accompanied by unmistakable emotion (like when I mistakenly licked the spoon from His jar of Nutella after vowing never to eat from it). Mostly, though, I use the pendulum and other divination methods to communicate with my deities and guides, including Loki.

Still, I can’t help being amused by the kind of spam this blog gets–and by imagining Loki’s responses. Today, I cleared out “Sex Gals” and a cheap viagra post from the spam cache, and I could imagine Loki looking over my shoulder inquisitively. The rest of this blog is going to read like one of those (often annoying) conversation memes that are spread around social media like cheap mayonnaise.

Loki: “‘Sex Gals?‘ Sounds interesting!”

Me: “To you, maybe. Not to me.” (Proceeds to bulk edit spam cache.)

Loki: “How do you know those spam messages aren’t actually highly significant, divinatory messages from me? Or (snort) from Freyr?”

Me: “Are you really going to make me drag out Freyr’s pendulum too? I can, you know.”

Loki (grins): “Wouldn’t think of putting you through all that trouble!”

Me: (Sigh.)

Loki: “Hey, I saved your life yesterday! Without me making you feel suddenly dizzy and sick, thereby causing you to delay your departure for five minutes while you took out my pendulum to ask if you should drive all the way to the Bay Area to see your youngest son, you might have been the spam in a can in that upturned car three blocks from your house!”

Me: “You’re saying I owe you?”

Loki: (Grins and says nothing.)

Me: “But I already deleted the spam!”

Loki: “Check your other blogs. Check that sexologist one!”

So I dutifully switch to the other blog and take a look at the spam cache.

Me: “Damn. There’s thirteen of these suckers already! You really want me to swing the pendulum for each one of these things?”

Loki: “Yep. Mine first. Then Freyr’s.”

Me: (Exasperated.) “Oh for heaven’s sake!”

Loki: “Asgard. You mean Asgard.”

Me: “I dunno. That really super long twumpian/Christian prophecy spam might beg to differ. It says that the end is nigh.”

Loki: “It’s always ‘nigh.’ Look at Ragnarok for heaven’s sake!”

Me: “LOL! Now you’re doing it!”

Loki: (Sputters.)

Me: (Snickers.)

Loki: “So what else is in your spam cache?”

Me: “The usual. An ad for 500 mg. of amoxicillian is attached to my ‘Men with Smaller Penises’ post. Someone else offers licentious portraits of college girls…”

Loki: “That’s not from me!”

Me: (Dryly.) “I’m relieved.”

Me: “To continue with our spam inventory…CBD oil, something about ‘my nephew’ and ‘my pet’ but it honestly makes no sense, ‘amoxicillin for cats’…say, who makes amoxicillin anyway? Is it Bayer? Because they just bought Monsanto and the stock is DOWN!…(gleeful laughter with an tinge of ‘fuck the world is ending’ hysteria…).

Loki: (Dryly.) “Try to focus, won’t you?”

Me: “Ahem. Sorry. Okay…tech…fleece…RSS feed… There’s not much here except the apocalyptic Christian thing about bitcoin and the sign of the beast. One of yours?”

Loki: (Dryly.) “Use the pendulum to test each one.”

And then I get a bright idea.

Me: “I don’t have to! I just did a bulk pendulum query to ask if any of the spam posts are actually secret messages from either of my two fave gods! And the answer was ‘no!'”

Loki: “Smart ass.”

Me: (Smirking.) “Let’s go play with InspiroBot instead.”

Loki. “Okay.”

So, we play with InspiroBot and this happens:

nqPk5X9QeL

Me: “Are you sure that’s not a licentious portrait of a college girl?”

Loki: “Busted…”

Happy Mother’s Day. The end is nigh.

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Compersion for Lokeans

Wiktionary defines compersion as:


  1. The feeling of joy one has experiencing another’s joy, such as in witnessing a toddler’s joy and feeling joy in response.
  2. The feeling of joy associated with seeing a loved one love another; contrasted with jealousy.

There’s been a lot of talk lately, around the ol’ Lokean campfire, about jealousy and strife in our circles, particularly in social media posts. Tension occasionally erupts between so-called “Baby Lokeans” and the more experienced devotees, between those who are “serious” in their practices and those who seem to take Loki too lightly, and sometimes even between Loki’s godspouses (and/or godspouses and non-godspouses). Sometimes people bail from these online communities because they just can’t take it anymore.

I have a modest proposal (somewhat different from Jonathan Swift’s, though Swift is a family name…). And that proposal is that we consciously cultivate compersion as a community, personal, and spiritual value. This doesn’t mean that we throw our own discernment or feelings out the window and obligingly wallow in whatever might seem odd or nonsensical to us, but to at least feel happy FOR the other Lokean, if nothing else. The polyam and non-monogamy folks have been cultivating compersion for years (and yeah, it can be a struggle). Here’s a good article from Elisabeth Sheff, Ph.D., a person I respect.

So…

Annoyed by a Marvel fanperson posting their tale of a drunken dream orgy with a Hiddleston look-alike? Feel something like happiness for them (even as you restrain your snark and scroll quickly past the comment section). They’re just “longing to publish [their] prosperous love” (Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen).

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Ygdrassill, the World Tree

Miffed by another godspouse’s account of hot vibratory tantric encounters with the patron deity of your polytheistic pantheon(s)? Get over it. Be glad for them. That person may have been working for years on a complex meditative practice with Loki as a cosmic daka, yielding revelations of Asgard and the other eight worlds as a sort of Vajra mandala. This person may simply want to share the numinous fruits of their labor for the good of all sentient beings (or they might want to sell you the best damn vibrator on the planet). Try to ignore your suspicions that they’re simply boasting.

Besides, Loki’s marvelous ability to be in many places (and shapes) at once benefit all of us, godspouse or not.

Right? (Let’s assume we can all agree to that…)

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Kongokai (vajra) mandala – Shingon tantric buddhist school. fromwww.bujinkan-france.net. Public domain.

Are you squicked because someone’s relentless oversharing reminds you too much of your own gushing newbie self, once upon a time? Focus instead on the wonder of your own passionate path and leave others to their own discoveries (and later embarrassments). Feel joy for them as a fellow traveler. Like most of us, they too will grow into a deeper understanding of their own wyrd, though they might not develop the classy restraint of Jane Austen (who is really very funny).

I’ll admit it. There are times when I want to stuff my eye sockets with cotton balls. Some things I cannot unsee. Some things I wish I’d never read. I have the same response in supermarkets, though, and if someone wants to fill their shopping cart with twelve cartons of Hostess Ding Dongs to dedicate to Loki (or feed to their children), it’s really none of my affair.

Yes, you can leave a group if it no longer serves you. No, you don’t have to read or respond to drivel. But try to allow for the possibility of other paths to joy and discovery, even as you rush to log out. After all, our own path beckons beyond the keyboard–whether silly or severe or all of the above. We can have gobs more fun with that.

Compersion may be key to creating and nurturing frith in our online halls. Let’s see what happens when we are honestly happy for our Lokean kin, no matter how much we weary of godPhone™ text messages and runic bitch slaps.

Hail Loki! Have another donut!

P.S. The above is general observation and nothing that pertains to anyone in particular,  except that paragraph five (counting after the definition) is me making fun of myself. 

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Loki: Acceleration on a Curve

A learning curve, that is. Though I’ve been tempted lately to think of Loki as having a gentler approach to the “lifespan development issues” faced by us older folks, that’s an illusion. In reality, he’s tossing us about just as much as the twenty- and thirty- somethings. In many ways, our existence is as precarious as the millennials leaving their teens: poverty, lack of affordable housing, lack of employment, relationship and family issues, lack of respect…

However, I greatly appreciate his rapid-fire, “toss it all at the ceiling and see what sticks” approach. These days people show their qualities very quickly and as painful as that is in the moment, it’s actually great for a woman who has less and less time to waste on pointless drama and toxic relationships.

My biological clock is ticking–and it’s not a baby I’m expecting. Momento mori.

I’m in the process of jettisoning things right now: outmoded concepts of who I was; books and objects I’m not in love with anymore; acquaintances and colleagues who’ve been hanging around in my “Facebook friends” list but who never communicate (I just purged my list today); papers and crap I’ve been holding onto as “archives…” Who, really, will care? Except for my cats, and a few books, artwork, and family photos, I could actually travel lighter than I have in the past.

Only trouble is, there are far fewer safe (non-toxic) places I could land. But for now, I’m enjoying where I live, with clean indoor air and a degree of comfort not afforded to most of the world’s people. Do I know how lucky I am? Yes, I do.

Back to people and their qualities, though. And back to Loki.

He won’t let me stagnate. He won’t let me put my trust in people who are deceptive, competitive, dishonest, or otherwise toxic. It’s as if he’s an enzyme or a catalyst (“just add Loki!”). In his presence, the alchemies of personality and conflict boil, bubble, and froth. Perhaps what results will be palatable, perhaps not. Whatever happens will be the opposite of comfy or stale.

Understand, I give offerings to this god daily: cinnamon tea with honey in the morning (kind of like when I used to get up first in the morning and make coffee for my then-husband, bringing it to him while he stayed in bed), poems and prayers, conversation, and frequent sweets. I have a degree of trust in this patron deity that exceeds what I feel for almost everyone and everything (except my cats), but I also know that my trust cannot lead to complacency.

And so I ponder the latest fracas–an unexpectedly ugly outburst from another, and my own feelings of frustration, shame, anger, and the mental fluctuations of “what do I want to do about this, if anything?” My first impulse is always to simply leave–remove myself from the situation–but this time I think I’m being challenged to stay, and to also state my terms for doing so.

In the past I’ve fled abusive bosses and narcissistic lovers, and avoided personality disordered friends. I’ve left a hula halau (hula school) after an alaka’i (assistant teacher) yanked my arm without warning, while I was trying to learn some steps. She’d previously poked fun at my “duck feet” in class, in front of everyone. I walked off the dance floor and never returned. I’ve been “mean-girled” and “man-splained” and worse, and though I have a certain level of tolerance for human failings (even, sometimes, my own), I do draw the line at accepting insulting or abusive behavior. Or rather, my gut draws the line even if my mind wants to excuse or rationalize the person’s actions. There’s a very definite feeling from my enteric nervous system that says “no more.” It’s very final.

Armouring, warding… recuperating, reviving… these are important activities in my life. Sometimes they take all I’ve got. But with Loki’s help, I seem to cycle through my emotional reactions faster, arriving at whatever strategic measures I have to take to prevent a repeat occurence.

Loki can be a “pick your battles” kind of god, exits are okay but he can also urge a full-on confrontation, the scorched earth kind. Even “best served cold” can be fine with him. I am free to choose but it has to be a conscious choice. I have to confront my own feelings and failings, no matter what. It’s a liberating way to live even at this age. And yet there’s never a definitive answer to the existential question: “are we there yet?”

We Lokeans never arrive at a final destination. We are, in so many ways, forever in transit. We are always accelerating on the curve.

Hail Loki! We wouldn’t have it any other way.

Loki's_flight_to_Jötunheim.jpg

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My Gods are Fragrance-Free

What follows is imagined, an eco-parable. Gerda, a Jotun, smells only of rich soil, bruised herbs from her garden, and luscious Jotun pheromones. This was enough to dazzle the Vanir god, Freyr, from afar. His sister, Freya, adorns herself with amber jewels, but cares for her skin only with salves of honey, clear water, and powdered grains. The dry tips of her hair are moistened only with the tiniest bit of melted butter. She scorns the feckless chemistries, the unwise alchemies, of Midgard’s humans, which propel poison into every living thing. Freya has complained to Odin that dead warriors are no longer what they once were–they are now creatures with flacid muscles, except for their texting hands, and that they die now with withered sperm counts, and distortions in their DNA.

Even worse–“They (the humans) are even going after the roots of the World Tree,” she whispers, “with something called ‘Round-Up.'”

Freyr, the Corn God, nods. He dies each year for the harvest and comes back reborn, but it’s becoming apparent that the humans who once honored him for this would now rather manipulate the mysteries of the grain themselves. Perhaps an extended vacation in Vanaheim is in the runes…let the humans spend a year without him for once, prefereably after an Icelandic eruption, when ash clouds herald global famine. That’d learn ’em, he thinks, but in the next moment he backs away from such thoughts. He will serve as he has always served, all these long eons. “Perhaps Ragnarök will be a blessing after all…”

Freyr smells of rich earth too, and Gerda’s herbs and mead, and a not-unpleasant tang of godly sweat and semen. Vanir pheromones are also rather scrumptious, carrying a faint scent of apples. But humans, drunk on designer petrochemicals, can no longer detect them.

As for Ragnarök, Loki has no comment. What will be, will be, and has been–so many times. Contrary to his bad press, Loki finds no happiness in wanton destruction…but cleansing…the metabolism of poisons when all else fails…sometimes that is something to be desired. He should know. The next cycle has already unleashed forces powerful enough to bake the planet, to scour it of the unwise alchemies of the paltry, money-grubbing humans. Midgard will eventually recover (Gaia is strong) but Loki isn’t all that keen to be the trickster god of cockroaches. However, he recognizes the cosmic joke about to be played on them all. He’ll do his best to find some fragment of mirth when the time comes. But onlookers will mistake his battle grin for vengeful joy, misunderstanding the mask that hides his hot, angry tears. It was all so unnecessary! It always is! Meanwhile, cremation fires are at hand for another death of a too beautiful world. It’s Loki’s job to ensure that creation follows cremation. Somebody has to do it…

Sometimes Loki wishes Sigyn had gone in for systems change, rather than holding the bowl for him alone. He imagines he could have borne his suffering–bound with his son’s entrails and scorched by viper spittle–if he’d known she was battling the powers that be, on behalf of all sentient beings. Sigyn might have known better though, and who really is to say? Her victory might yet be won.

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Sigyn holding the bowl, to keep the viper venom from dripping onto Loki.

It doesn’t take a völva prophecy to know what’s coming. Freya sheds tears. She and her daughter want to save a cat or two. Freya wants the falcons to be okay, and bees. Freyr puts in a word for boars and grains. Dogs too. Their father wants to save whales, sharks, sea turtles, guppies, and coral polyps, among others. His is a long list. Loki would like to send wolves and snakes and salmon and horses to Hel, for safekeeping. Gerda hides seeds in safe places, and waits. The souls of animals are already reluctant, but plants and fungi have not yet given up all hope. Neither has Gerda.

Loki says, “Don’t shoot the messenger (especially if I’m it!). Don’t ignore the voices of doom, of climate change, or the canary in the coal mine. Invite Cassandra onto your podcasts–she’s still got a thing or two to say! Don’t disregard the muttering sibyl, the trancing völva, or anger of witches and Jotuns.” He’d slap this message on t-shirts, even though it’s not a sound bite, in hopes that humans would pay attention, but he distrusts capitalism–particularly the kind that sells toxic petrochemical perfumes wrapped in bottles that look like Marvel Universe characters, especially his!

This last is a particularly painful mockery–big anime eyes and golden horns on keychains are one thing, but this is quite another–all those bottled endocrine disruptors ending up in the salmon, just so a few fans can pretend they have access to “his” scent.

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Product of a toxic industry making a mockery of our god, adding yet more petrochemicals to the planet and its creatures, all in the name of money.

Meanwhile the big money laughs and this makes Loki mad. “Stick to cosplay,” he mutters. “Is nothing sacred?” but he already knows the answer to that question. Rather say that nothing is so futile as the sacred, and nothing is more powerful. After all, Loki knows how to stand with two, four, eight legs, or none, in the spaces between all the worlds you could ever name. (Some say that’s why he drinks so much sometimes. He’s so sick of stupid.)

All matter is alive and aware. If we could hear it, all Midgard is screaming at us right now, “Stop it! Go back! You’re hurting us!” The Earth is our hearth. Hearth fires are lit for warmth and nourishment, not destruction. But we have forgotten this. We have forgotten to extend our hospitality (our frith) and our care to all living things. Loki-as-Lóðurr awoke the first humans with his breath, which was clean and alive and full of strength. He warmed us with his breath and gave us fire to warm our hearths. He certainly did not give us a command to go forth and pollute.

I would like to think that human beings still yearn for that first clean breath, that pure air granted to us by a being as old and as vast as a star, and that we’d do anything to get it back. Instead we diddle with gadgets, toys, herbicides, GMOs, scented candles, and guns. We’ve poisoned our Midgard and every living creature in it. Our own bodies now shit microplastics. We’ve inflicted this same diet on animals and plants. Fragrance chemicals are harming aquatic wildlife. Our reproductive systems are drenched in endocrine disruptors (like phthalates) from deli food containers, Round-Up, shampoos, and perfume. Babies are born with birth defects as a result.  Our breast milk contains countless contaminants, including an array of self-inflicted consumer toxins from such beauty products as “Loki-Master of Mischief” cologne. Soon plastic golden Marvel Loki horns from the above bottle will find their way to the Pacific Garbage patch, floating among the discarded grocery bags, to be eaten by starving whales who can no longer find enough krill. I don’t think this (below) was the kind of “mischief” Loki had in mind…

Water_pollution_due_to_domestic_garbage_at_RK_Beach_01
Water pollution due to domestic garbage at RK Beach in Visakhapatnam. Date 22 September 2013, 09:53:32. Author Adityamadhav83. Creative Commons Attribution

Is there any hope at all? Or do I just put another gaudy, food-colored donut on Loki’s altar and sigh, “fuck this shit, Worldbreaker, we’re doomed. Bring it on…”

But Loki will have none of that. He absolutely refuses to let us dodge this wyrd. He says, “Stop buying this crap, especially not in my name. Use your breath for something decent, like saving the planet, while you still can.”

“Do this,” he says without winking, “and maybe you’ll get a whiff of my pheromones…”

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LokiFest CA is a “fragrance-free” event.

NEW & BEST LokiFest Flyer 4:22

IX and X. Spectrosexuality Survey: Challenges and Sensations

Just because a partner is “imagined” (as opposed to “imaginary”) doesn’t mean the relationship or encounter is ideal. It also doesn’t mean that sensations are imaginary either. The people who took this survey had a lot to say regarding both topics.

For the purposes of discussion, I am using the word “imagine” to describe a way of sensing something that transcends visual, auditory, and tactile sense, yet which “feels real” even so. Newer readers might like to refer to my blogs on preliminary thoughts and  mysticism and sexology before continuing.

This post discusses the final two questions in the spectrosexuality and god/spirit spouse survey.

Question Nine


Data_Q9_190318


Secrecy: Some (perhaps many or most) people need to keep spectrosexual relationships and encounters hidden.

“I’m not actually sure how to broach the subject with my human partner. He knows I’m oathed to Loki, but he’s unaware of the nature of that oath. So far, Loki seems okay with that, as the god marriage is new still (since December).”

“I struggled with secrecy and possibly facing a negative reaction from others if they found out, which made trying to explain my lack of human dating awkward.”

“I don’t share this with anyone.”

 

Discernment: There were several responses on this topic.

One person felt that group experiences with witchery helped with discernment:

“I work alongside other witches so we often have a giggle about it. I’ve never had any problems defining this world from the unseen.”

But others said:

“Communication discernment. It’s often hard to tell if it’s him or me, or something else.”

“Discernment can be an issue, however, if something is working for me and meeting my needs, it isn’t anyone else’s problem. And if it ends up being in my head, well then I have a great imagination that isn’t hurting anyone.”

“Dreams can sometimes be misleading.”

One person was concerned that lack of discernment, especially as reported by some human godspouses, could lead to damaging or abusive human/spirit relationships. There is also a concern about how lack of discernment can reflect poorly on others:

“One concern I have had that I have mixed feelings about is that other people with similar experiences to my own often show behaviors or ideas about said experiences that I don’t find wise. I’ve heard many other godspouses report that they are concerned their deity may be acting in nonconsensual or abusive ways toward them (not the reporter’s own works, but clearly what they were describing), and I’ve also seen godspouses who clearly didn’t have a great grasp of consent and healthy relationships themselves and who may have actively been seeking out unhealthy dynamics. I tend to chalk those experiences up to projecting human behaviors onto gods, but these types of statements make it easy for me to understand why some people look with suspicion upon godspouses, since some godspouses do seem to have unhealthy or unbalanced ideas about their Divine partners.”

Managing multiple spirit/human relationships:

“I tend to feel bad I don’t spread my love or attention equitably. I gravitate from one to another, then realize I’ve been neglecting several.”

Noncorporeality:

“Being in a relationship with someone who does not have a physical form and who long term contact with requires focused mediation and otherworldly travel.”

Change:

“Our relationship morphed into an even deeper one where sex is not needed and/or would actually hinder our work together. It’s only very rarely that we become intimate.”

Finally, one person added this important reminder:

“I have the ultimate magickal power of choice.”

Question Ten

I am a hypnotist and hypnosis instructor, as well as a sexologist and sexuality counselor. Because I am so familiar with hypnosis, as well as offshoots like guided imagery and autogenic training, I know that very real physical effects can be created simply through imagination and suggestion. So I could be tempted to stop here and simply say, “well, this spirit sex stuff is all in the mind,” but I won’t.

Sure, there could be a bit of malarkey, mendacity, and/or mental dishevelment among some of the responses to this survey, but I am used to generally accepting people’s accounts of their lived experiences, especially with regard to sexuality, intimacy, and gender. Who am I to say what’s “real” and what’s not?


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Here are a selection of responses from the comments section.

Physical Sensations Not Caused by Self

“I’ve felt a physical sensation that I did not cause once, but it was not in a sexual context.”

“It was like this constant pressure/energy that almost became a part of me. I could feel a presence hugging me, like a blanket of energy. I’ve also felt him physically touch my back—but that was only once. Because of self doubt and trouble discerning what’s actually him or not, I tended to dismiss what I thought I felt a lot.”

“Most of my intimate encounters happen when I trance and journey to the Otherworld but I can still feel the sensations within my physical body. On very rare occasions, usually with the deity I am spoused to, I do not need to journey and can feel their presence in the room.”

“Warmth.”

“Chakral stimulation, seeing with physical eye, smells, taste, touch, etc.”

Unusual Energy

“One time in particular during intimacy I went out of body so far that I felt a connection with every thing in the universe. It was glorious, and I forgot to breathe for a short time. My spirit spouse let me stay that way for a moment, then gently called me back to my body, but I didn’t want to come back. The experience was rich with sensations, and it was very profound. I felt like I was in very deep space, yet I felt every planet, every organism, every human and nonhuman thing all at once. And it all felt very natural. Peaceful would be a word to describe it, but it doesn’t do the feeling justice. I will never forget that feeling.”

Sense of Presence and/Or Communication

“Sometimes I am more in tune with Loki than other times, especially depending on my stress level and if I’m distracted by something I have to do the next day. He doesn’t seem to mind if I’m not all there and am unable to enter a full meditative state. I’m very busy with university at the moment and my area of study leaves me with almost no time for social activities, so I feel like our time together is Loki’s way of taking care of my mental health.”

“he once demanded i say his name instead of the name of the mortal man i love then proceeded to tell me to call him by one of his older names (Loptr) & laughed in a pleased & pleasing way when i followed instruction.”

“Spiritual revelation/gnosis.”

Adding Physical Touch, Solo or Partnered

“Sometimes I add physical touch, but not always, and pretty sparingly.”

 

“Certain encounters took place solely within mental spaces, in which I might have been physically turned on but didn’t always feel a physical need to masturbate. I didn’t always worry about what my body was doing because I still felt emotionally satisfied. Other times, I’d be masturbating and feel Someone’s presence, which might turn into an impromptu offering, but sometimes, I’d check in divination wise to make sure I was clear on particulars of the mental story/vid to masturbate with and would feel Their presence once I started physically (intentional offering).”

“Sometimes I feel my spirit lovers join in while I’m with a physical partner or partners. Some people know and some don’t-depends on how I think they would react.”

Seeing or Hearing Things That Others Might Not See or Hear

“I have never had full-blown audio/visual hallucinations, but neuroscience research (that’s my area of study) suggests that “mental images” may actually be on the same spectrum as hallucinations and that the intensity of sensory experience may simply be determined by the strength of the neural connections involved. It’s been experimentally demonstrated, for example, that synesthesia – a condition in which people experience one sense, such as seeing a shape or color, when they encounter another sense, such as a certain sound – may actually be something that all humans have at a subconscious/subsensory level. Almost all people will say, for example, that certain sounds “feel” round vs. spiky, even if they don’t experience sensory hallucinations to that effect. I always feel the need to explain this related to my spiritual experiences, because I do “sense” things in the form of mental images, but these are not of sensory-hallucinatory quality like some people report. Most people seem to assume it’s one or the other, that sensations I experience are either “made up,” consciously fabricated by me, or are full-blown sensory hallucinations. Neither is the case. I’ve never had a full sensory hallucination, but neither do I control, decide, or “make up” the actions of the spiritual entities I encounter. I perceive them at a level below that of full sensory hallucination.”

Intense Emotions

“Most common is intense pleasure during meditation.”

“Idk about “spiritual emotions.” I can feel strong emotions i’d normally feel in sex, but shared with the spirit. Ya know? Also sex is one of those shamanic paths (ecstacy?) that works to change my state of conciousness, so I can see things in my head, like a eureka moment, but no hallucinations.”

Other Information

“It took years for the connection to get strong. The relationship had to evolve just as any human to human relationship, with trust, communication, and clear intentions in place. The encounters have grown stronger and more “real” and undeniable from the beginning 7 years ago. He has even manifested randomly during sleep and literally gotten into my bed 3 confirmed times.”

Final Thoughts

My motivation for doing this confidential, non-scientific survey was to (1) include spectrosexuality and god/spirit spousery in the broader and legitimate context of human sexual and erotic behavior and, (2) more personally, to discover where my own “unverified personal gnosis” (UPG) may match up with other people’s experiences. Does this survey indicate that we may actually have more peer corroboration (PCPG – Peer-Corroborated Personal Gnosis) than we know? I think it might.

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LokiFest CA

Loki wants this. But nothing is simple! Event still under construction.

Join us for a celebration of the Norse Trickster through art, music, workshops, and liberating community.

UNDER CONSTRUCTION LokiFest

Due to high insurance costs and the expecation of low turnout for the esoteric “workshop” portion of our two day event, we are switching to a Saturday outdoor/vendor and music street festival as an alternative program, with the Friday workshops taking place at a private location–limited to 15 people. Thank you for your patience as we hash out the details, insurance costs, vendor booth sales, and city approval. More info to come!

Proceeds after expenses will benefit The Troth Red Hammer Disaster Fund and the new safe house for homeless trans youth created by Larkin Street Youth Services in San Francisco. If you cannot come to LokiFest CA, I encourage you to donate to one or both of the above organizations in honor of Loki. Thanking you for your generosity in advance!

For ongoing info and updates:

Facebook page: fb.me/LokiFestivalCA

Twitter: @LokiFestCA

This event is fragrance-free. No perfumes, no essential oils.See you there, perhaps!

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