Today, Monday, July 22, the sun enters Leo. And finally I am seeing some signs of support for the Mauna Kea Kia’i (protectors) from people in some parts of the neopagan communities.
So, here’s some good news:
The Troth just issued an open letter to Governor Ige of Hawai’i, expressing support for the preservation of Mauna Kea from desecration, and for the struggle of the Kia’i to protect it. I am proud to be a member of this inclusive heathenry organization.
And I just came across this post from Marc, on the blog, Of Axe and Plow, calling for “the wider pagan community” to show support for Mauna Kea and the protectors. It’s a great read!
I once had dreams of becoming an art historian (specializing in erotica), so today’s devotional topic is tantalizing: “art that reminds you of this deity.” Note: it doesn’t say art that IS of this deity, so here’s where we’ll have fun.
Loki as a deity of creative chaos doesn’t just inspire representational art of him, he can also be sensed in art, music, literature, and drama that was not originally produced as about him. Art that evokes passion, conflict, liminality, eroticism, and transformation can all be read as having something to do with Loki.
For example, the photograph above reminds me of Loki because of the fiery colors of the flowers and the suggestion of a portal to another world (the green leaves). Though it is a photograph of plants, it becomes abstract through cropping and the close-up detail. The composition suggests liminal space. It is not an emotional image of Loki, but it is an evocative one.
Almost all fractals remind me of Loki. In my personal gnoso-sphere, Loki IS fractal. That’s how his shapeshifting happens. (And I had a vision of Loki once that was very dynamic, very fractal. The static nature of the image below can only suggest a nano-second of it.)
The two videos below (the first one invoking the sacred names of lipstick), also remind me of Loki. Can you guess why? (Hint: gendershifting, darling!)
Styling in the video below is by Jean Paul Gaultier.
With regard to emotions, I have always loved this painting, Fighting Forms (1914), by Franz Marc ( 1880-1916). This too reminds me of Loki.
This detail from an 18th century Tibetan thangka reminds me of Loki’s “skywalker” name, as well as my personal gnosis belief that Loki’s mysteries may have something to do with “sacred sexuality” practices.
Loki is an arch-foe of hypocrisy and adept at “calling it out.” I can detect the spirit of Loki in political cartoons and satire. Here are two examples. The first is a French cartoon regarding censorship (nothing has changed, has it?).
This meme below, by an unknown wag, was launched earlier this month when a certain so-called “head of state” claimed that American Revolutionary War soldiers were defending airports.
And as for Randy Rainbow–the God of Musical Political Satire with a devastating knack for lyrical pyrotechnics–I want him and Loki to have a baby. Immediately. Remember, Loki has been a mom. It could work…
Finally, Loki in his “Mr. LokiBot” guise, often provides his own visual social commentary.
Today Mercury goes retro in my Ninth House of writing and publishing (waaaah!) and the Moon is in Pisces, in a transit that also opposes my Venus, according to today’s Astrodient prediction. This transit is termed “indiscriminate affection” and is described thusly:
“This influence can lead to rather indiscriminate affection, because your desire to love someone overrules your normal sense of discretion. This is not especially dangerous, although a certain amount of discretion is still desirable.”
In other words, it’s a PERFECT day to blog without restraint (or discretion) on today’s topic: “what quality or qualities of this god do you most admire? What quality or qualities of them do you find the most troubling?”
Caution: This transit also pertains to “Erotic desires. Are you feeling emotional at the moment but don’t know what to do about it?” (Well, I wasn’t until I read this and started thinking about it…)
Loki Laufeyjarson! The qualities I admire? For simplicity’s sake, I’ll use “he/his” as I generally do experience him in that gendered way. However, I’m just now coming to connect with other gendered aspects, which is great. I am sure it is my programming that has limited me up to now.
Let’s take a personal gnosis plunge. Ready?
First of all–I like that Loki’s here, here with me for the long haul (which, seeing as I’m about to reach medicare age, isn’t all that long…). That doesn’t mean I always feel him hanging about or being all bad boy and tricksy as some people report (and that’s fine, by the way–I kind of envy those folks), but that I know he has my back.
I admire Loki for his willingness to “speak truth to power.” For his intelligence and insightful ability to dismantle hypocrisy. For his unholy glee and madcap humor (yes, I do get to experience the light side now and then). For his intrinsic creative force and ability to spark it in mere humans. For his honor and resolve, no matter how weird his wyrd. For the kindness and tenderness he can sometimes show to his families, as a parent and as a lover. For his beguiling appetites for… whatever! For being “close up and personal.” In short, for being a complex subtle being who isn’t afraid to mix it up a little with troubled humanity here in Midgard.
I admire Loki’s hidden agenda. I don’t know what it is, but I sense it as part of his function as a catalyst of creative chaos and transformation. He’s not raw chaos (usually), he’s strategic, even when looking as if he’s got no impulse control whatsover.
I love his complexity. I love being challenged by Loki, learning from him.
I admire his shape and gender-shifting versatility. His curiosity. His restlessness.
Loki is a good listener as well as a master of direct communication (including barbed witticisms). I admire that too. And if he’s displeased, it’s a clear “no, don’t do that” or “no, I don’t want that.” He’s never passive-aggressive. He asks pointed questions to trigger learning rather than ‘splaining, as I mentioned above.
I admire Loki’s generosity. I benefit from it. He makes his “template of transformation” available. You have only to ask, then to work hard to understand and absorb it.
I admire Loki’s ability to be accepting of all kinds of people while at the same time being perfectly willing to offer a deft kick to the patoosis, as needed.
I trust him in all ways, but not like a fool. He likes me to keep my mind sharp and my eyes open.
And I adore feeling his energy when he’s “around.” I love his readiness to be delighted.
Sometimes I consider the above with a trace of wistfulness. Loki has inadvertantly spoiled me for other manifestations of masculinity (not that Loki’s always “masculine”). He never “mansplains” or “godsplains.” I wish I could meet a human love with even a 100th portion of Loki’s qualities. It would be nice to grow old(er) with one or two such people, especially if they also shared my faith. That’s one of the problems with spending too much time with the divine. You get used to a certain expansiveness and depth. It makes you “nice” in the old sense of the word–particular, choosy.
Qualities I don’t admire? There really aren’t many. At one point I was troubled by slut shaming in the Lokasenna. And I get the sense that Loki can be malicious at times, but only when really pushed, and even then, not for very long. Based on what I know of the lore (and I am still learning), he is far less cruel to others than others have been to him.
As for Loki’s involvment in “the Death of Baldr,” I don’t trust Snorri Sturluson’s Prose Edda version of Baldr’s death. It’s not the only one. In older versions, Loki is not involved at all, or if he is, he’s most likely acting on behalf of Baldr’s father (Odin) in a sacred rite that ensures Baldr’s return after Ragnarok. I also don’t trust Snorri’s front- and back-end prose additions to Lokasenna (which is an anonymous human composition). They are too pat.
Loki is above all a keeper of certain mysteries. He’s a guardian at the threshold, a deity of all kinds of crossroads. Human lore and literature, whether ancient or modern, is a reflection of human attempts to explain or chronicle the bits of cosmic mysteries we are able to perceive, all based ultimately on someone’s personal gnosis. I feel Snorri had an literary agenda that overrode any sense he may have had of touching on “mysteries.” He was not a mystic, nor did he have a mystic’s intuition.
As for Ragnarok, meh. What we humans are doing to our planet and its climate is more real, devastating, and disturbing than any mythic account of the world’s end. For all I know, we ARE in Ragnarok right now, and from where I sit, I don’t see Loki as an agent of this destruction. In fact, I think he’d rather we wised up and did something about it while we still can. This wasn’t what he wanted for the descendants of Ask and Embla. Or for cats and wolves either.
Today’s topic is actually never far from my mind. The question is: “how does this deity stand in terms of gender and sexuality? (historical and/or UPG).” Well, Loki as a deity of liminal spaces “stands” pretty much everywhere, honestly. Consider this fractal as a map of how Loki could shape and gender-shift anytime, any place.
Reproductively, Loki has both fathered children AND birthed ’em. Yep. Sometimes he’s been Mom and sometimes he’s been Dad to some of the most powerful and challenging offspring you can name, including an eight-legged horse. Just…think…about what it takes to actually give birth to something with eight legs and hooves. Shapeshifting certainly came in handy then, I betcha.
Loki is a fabulously fertile deity. Even the consumption of a burnt heart caused him to become pregnant with an uncounted number of witchy “troll women.” This is one reason I count him as a spiritual ancestor.
Loki also gender-shifts beyond mere reproductive function. Loki is most frequently referred to as “he,” but his/her (their/zir?) female aspect is potent as well. Yesterday I had the pleasure of listening to an audio book called Worshipping Loki–A Short Introduction by Silence Maestas, available for a song on Etsy. I highly recommend it. One of the great features of this valuable book is the appendix concerning Loki’s female aspects. This contained insights which enabled me to connect meditatively with this aspect of my patron deity, in a way that I hadn’t before. I am so grateful for this!
Silence Maestas has also created a “Virtual Temple to Loki Herself” which you can find here. Maestas’s blog is called The Road, The Walker, and What Comes Next.
Usually Loki’s gender-shifting is presented as fairly binary–either male OR female–but I don’t think Loki is limited in that way. I would love to hear from Lokeans and other Loki-friendly people who have experienced Loki as otherwise gender-diverse.
A Queer Deity
As a sexologist, if I were to sit down with Loki and take a sexual history ala KinseyI’m betting the data would pretty much shout “pansexual” often expressed through “non-monogamy.” In the old Norse lore, Loki is shown to have quite a number and range of partners. (He is portrayed as outing quite a few in the old poem, Lokasenna.) Among modern humans, there are anecdotal accounts that are pretty much the same. You might want to check out the results of my Spectrosexuality and God-Spousing survey.
And there are rumors, of course, about the (shall we call them) “complexities” of Odin’s and Loki’s relationship. But even Frigg (Odin’s wife) would rather not know the details. In the Lokasenna, after Loki and Odin have accused each other of “unmanly” behavior, Frigg pleads for discretion in stanza 25:
“Of the deeds ye two | of old have done Ye should make no speech among men; Whate’er ye have done | in days gone by, Old tales should ne’er be told.”
In Asgard, what happens under the World Tree, stays at the World Tree?
These days, Loki is cherished by many as a queer deity and champion of LGBTQIA+ people (as well as a champion deity for other categories of people who have been outcast for being “different” from the mainstream). It’s one reason why so many love him, including me.
This aspect of Loki is reflected in many modern works of art, both of Norse Loki and his “Marvel Loki” pop culture incarnations (based on Hiddleston’s portrayal of the Loki character in the Avengers movies, and the comic book “Lady Loki”).
I might be answering this question through the murk of my own social anxiety issues, but my first thought reading this question was, “according to the lore, Loki’s been through a shit show with the other gods.” Sure, there are tales of rollicking adventures (amorous ones too) and a fair share of drunken comradery, but also an awful lot of truly dreadful manipulation and worse–much of it directed at Loki, mind you.
However I have to keep in mind that only a fragment of the old Norse lore survives and that there were probably many more stories, now lost forever. Some of those stories could have modifed how we currently view Loki’s relationships to other deities, at least those within the Norse pantheon.
A Polytheist with a Patron
As Loki is my patron, I consider his guidance and direction as having extra weight in my spiritual life, so keep that in mind as I relate the following. Also what follows is entirely based on personal gnosis, as there is no old lore that I know of that can tell us how Loki interacts with deities and spirits from other spiritual/cultural pantheons.
In addition to Loki, I mainly honor Freyr, Freya, and Gerda in the Norse pantheon. But since I don’t stick strictly to Norse deities, sometimes things feel a little confusimg. At times I have a vague sense of discomfort–a “I hope they all like each other” feeling– when I view the collection of candles on my altar and think about who each candle represents. And since Loki gets the lion’s share of attention in my life, I hope the others don’t feel neglected.
I do recognize that I’m not responsible for how these folks interact with each other, and how they carry on their relationships. Nor do I understand enough about what those interactions are, at any given moment of (non-linear) time. Still, I have “feelings.”
For example: At times I’ve gotten the feeling Freya isn’t all that into me as a devotee. She was on my altar before Loki, and I sometimes wonder if she resents how he’s taken precedence. I may need to follow up on that, though the last time I checked in (via pendulum), she was okay with having a place in my devotions. I have a fondness for Freya, but also experience a lack of closeness that actually predated Loki’s arrival. In this case, are my feelings due to Freya’s response to me as a devotee, or to Loki, or both?
Gerda is quiet and self-contained. I don’t feel she’s that interested in having devotional attention in general, but she’s a good plant teacher for me and I appreciate her for that. I also don’t want to ignore her, as Freyr’s wife. She seems neutral about Loki.
Freyr is one of my two “non-toxic masculinity” deities. (The other, of course, is Loki.) Freyr seems bluffly chill with whatever I do and there’s no feeling of competition. Loki seems okay with Freyr as well, though I get the slight sense that he considers Freyr a little “square” or his role as a harvest fertility god may be slightly passe, given the horrendous challenges of climate change. Again, this is all personal gnosis.
So, these four Norse deities don’t seem to work together much, in my life, and I find myself approaching them separately, except for requests for general blessings from all. Of course Freya, Freyr, and Gerda also have closer family ties with each other than they do with Loki. He’s very much the outsider in that regard.
For some reason, the rest of Loki’s family are not yet “in play” in my life. I acknowledge them of course, and honor them in my heart, but I’m not yet “introduced.” (And I get a slight feeling Freya is sniffy about Sigyn, for some reason. Anyone else get that?)
Outside the Norse pantheon, there are a few others. I have have a few vague feelings about how Loki interacts with these others, or is viewed by these others, but again, it’s all personal gnosis.
I’ve been aware of Bast as a cat goddess for decades, and have felt drawn to her as a result, but it didn’t occur to me to make offerings until this year, when one of my cats was ill. Aside from cats, her emphasis on pleasure, music, and dancing is also healing to me. As for Bast and Loki, I don’t sense much going on between them, at least in the context of my practice, but I sense it would be cordial, at least. There’s a kind of “yeah, we see each other at parties” vibe.
In other cases, I’ve become interested in a deity or spirit because of some prompt from an ancestral lineage.
Ancestors in my father’s mother’s line (and another lineage) indicated a spiritual connection to Brigit/Brigid. A few months ago I began to honor her in her pagan aspect (I’m not equipped to deal with the Christianized version of St. Brigid). She seems neutral with regard to Loki and the others, somewhat set apart. I hadn’t know Brigid was associated with poetry–or fire–until I began to learn about her (I was interested to read Kyaza’s Q. 17 blog today, which reports feeling a distinct antipathy between Brigid and Loki.)
Goetic Amy–not a god but a fallen angel with an interesting CV–is someone I’ve been saying “hello” to, via a weekly offering of wine. But I have not yet “worked with” Amy in any sense. Goetic Amy seems to have been important to someone in my maternal great-grandfather’s line and that’s mainly the reason for my greetings, though there may be a situation coming up that would prompt me to ask for help from this spirit. Amy is a fire spirit who also gender-shifts, so there is a superficial similarity with Loki. However Amy seems serious, reserved, and scholarly–not a trace of “madcap” humor. With Loki and Amy I sense a mutual (distant) respect but a distinct “we move in such very different circles” vibe.
Just this last week, I was surprised by another nudge or poke from The Morrigan. This had happened before, a few years ago, but I wasn’t spiritually or emotionally ready to investigate. When this happened last week, I checked in with Loki (via pendulum) and the feeling was, “it’s cool with me, but learn everything you can before making a decision either way.” There was also a kind of “You think I’m intense? Just you wait!” feeling behind this cautionary advice.
Using a fresh pendulum in hopes of contacting The Morrigan, to show her the courtesy of acknowledging her signal, I asked her if she knew Loki was my patron. There was a kind of “Hmmm, no, actually” feeling, with a bit of a slight withdrawal in learning that Loki is paramount in my life. But that was replaced with a feeling that she “might possibly consider a limited contract or specific interaction” relationship. These words are much more definitely expressed than the actual feeling, by the way. I also got the feeling that The Morrigan’s hesitation, modifying the pendulum indications, had more to do with my being already “taken” (oathed) than a reaction to Loki in particular. I could be wrong.
(Again, I’ll be going slow and learning more before I make a decision. Lora O’Brien’s videos are invaluable. I also have Morpheus Ravenna’s The Book of the Great Queen, which I purchased a few years ago, after what I thought was the first nudge.)
Though I have released my practices with Hawaiian deities (mainly Pele) after leaving the islands in 2017, this week I am chanting and lighting a candle for Poliahu, Mauna Kea’s chief goddess, and for the Kia’i (protectors) who are actively resisting the construction of the TMT (Thirty Meter Telescope). Though Poliahu’s candle is now on my altar for the next few weeks, there is no sense at all of interaction between Poliahu and Loki, or any of the others for that matter. It’s very separate and specific, a time-limited action and show of support.
So, there you have it. My own personal gnosis about how Loki interacts with others (or doesn’t), in the context of my own practice as detected through pendulum and intuition. I feel everyone is different in detecting such affinities or antipathies, though there might be similarities in what some of us perceive. I am actually glad that these differences exist. I believe our own personalities and wyrd have a lot to do with this.
Loki is the wild child, the consummate outsider, the charming iconoclast, the “everywhere but belongs nowhere” guy, a shapeshifter, a sky walker (“you can’t catch me!”)… So today’s question seems easy to answer at first: “how do you think this deity represents the values of their pantheon and cultural origins?” Snap! “He opposes them!” And then I pause, “but not entirely.”
Personal gnosis: I see and feel Loki more as a source of revelations than a figure who represents values or even anti-values. Though he does have a narrative function as the irritant, the villain, the anti-hero, the outcast, and even as a tragic figure–he holds up a mirror to the deities. Just by being who he is and doing what he does, he can throw their hypocrisy and cruelty into stark relief. If they continue to be obtuse, he’s willing to tell them to their faces. As we observe him in action, Loki reveals often ugly truths about the others (and sometimes unpleasant things about himself). He seems to say, “Watch and learn, O Midgard!”
And yet, as a Jotun “giant” adopted into the Æsir as Odin’s blood brother, he also seems to have been complicit, collaborative, and obedient–willing to serve as a functioning member of his new family. The bonds of kinship–including “blood brotherhood”–were very important in the culture of the old lore, but Loki is often troubled by family conflict. Dagulf Loptson says it very well: “when the two sides of your family are battling each other, which side do you align yourself with in order to fulfill your family responsibilities?” (Playing with Fire, p. 14). Loki’s family values are also challenged when his children are deliberately harmed by other members of the Æsir. And no one seems to have offered him weregild, either, as seems to have been the custom for making amends. (Personal gnosis: I feel no amount of that would have made it right for Loki, anyway.)
Another “value” that seems reflected in the old Norse lore, is what Dr. Jackson Crawford calls “hyper-masculinity” in his Lokasenna video. (I do think subtitling this “truth-telling” poem as “Loki’s Locker Talk” is somewhat superficial, however.)
Crawford translates one perjorative as “sissy” and Loki and Odin trade this one back and forth in the poem. Though Odin and Thor have both taken on the clothing and identity of women at times, Loki is the one accused most often of having a versatile gender repertoire, including a more subtle and nuanced masculinity. (Gender-shifting is one reason so many Lokeans are drawn to him, including yours truly.)
Lokasenna also seems to present sexual fidelity of women as an Old Norse value, as Loki exposes love affairs of the goddesses, including their love affairs with him. Therefore, Loki would seem to be subversive of this value, rather than an upholder of it. It’s obvious some of the other gods also subvert this value–via seduction or worse–not just Loki.
There is certainly much more that could be said on this topic of “values,” but I feel constrained today by lack of time. Perhaps I’ll revisit this again when these “30 Days of Devotion” are over.