More from “Mister Lokibot”

Just for fun, I sometimes ask “Mister Lokibot” to speak to me via Inspirobot, “an artificial intelligence dedicated to generating unlimited amounts of unique inspirational quotes for endless enrichment of pointless human existence.” (And don’t miss Inspirobot’s “mindfulness mode.” Hilarious!)

This is what I got today, after having written a very long, insightful-but-not-entirely-pleasant critique of a former lover’s professional website. (His business had fallen off and my advice was meant to be helpful.)

And, FYI, when I say “former” I mean from decades ago.

So to the thought below, I add the words “with surgical precision.”

Gosh, Thanks Mister Lokibot!”

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Loptson’s “Eight Days of Loki” Ritual

I’m a Scorpio sun with three additional planets (and an asteroid) also in Scorpio (fifth house). And with all that plus a Capricorn moon, you know I’m a woman “what likes a challenge!” My birthday, Nov. 1st, encompasses part of Samhain, so by that you can probably guess what kind of challenges I like!

So of course I would follow up my “93-Day Loki Spiritual Fitness Challenge” regimen with dedicating the Lokabrenna Tiny Temple, and plunging right into Dagulf Loptson’s “Eight Days of Loki,” which may be found in his excellent book. (And then I’ll promptly plunge into his nine day ritual, “Breaking Loki’s Bonds.”)

Have I mentioned that I suffer from chronic fatigue along with the environmental illness? Almost thirty years worth? Even so, I feel driven to perform these almost muscular displays of esoteric endurance and concentration. My usual pattern is to drive myself  to do as much as possible while I have energy, then collapse. But energy-building practices are part of what this is all about.

Anyway, I’m on Day 7 and the theme is “thinking.” It’s a day I’m supposed to “expand my own thinking and the thinking of others.” I can probably bring the fact that I’ve also just started NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) too, as my second volume of fantasy fiction does contain some mind expanding elements! (I have to get cracking on Chapter One in a minute so I can acheive my daily word count!)

Tomorrow, Day 8, is “war” and, um, I actually will need to pay close attention to the guidance that emerges from this particular theme. Got a situation…

Before I touch on my reactions to the ritual so far, I want to say how grateful I am for it! Loptson’s book is an important guide for me and it’s wonderful to have these prompts and ideas for connecting with various aspects of Loki, who is a very complicated being. I can be scattered and such focus is helpful.

Day 1’s theme is “Pure Magic” and since it took place on a Saturday, the day I typically honor my ancestors, this was part of my awareness of magic. It was a day of preparation for the temple dedication so devotional activities were also a part of this awareness.

Day 2’s theme is “Death” and it coincided with the Lokabrenna Tiny Temple dedication. The temple, transformed from a sparse utilitarian space (it was a woodshop) to a beautiful devotional space, is almost a metaphor of life and death. The act of responding to the call to create this liminal “home” for Loki is also metaphorical as well as practical.

However, I didn’t visit a graveyard as Loptson suggests. I was just too exhausted after the dedication to trek around the lake to the nearest cemetery. Instead, I contemplated the sad grave of two newborn kittens that the vet and I had tried to save. (They weren’t even mine–I was catsitting a pregnant cat for some friends. Her kittens were born while they were away.) The early death of these helpless babies, which I buried in the front yard, is a frequent momento mori.  Plus, I’m now sixty-four and recently made my will. That’s a momento mori too.

But one of Loptson’s questions for the day is, “How do you feel about Loki, knowing that he is one of the gatekeepers who will one day remove you from your body?” I want to cry with gratitude just thinking about this, actually! So that’s cool!

Oct29LokiDrawingDay 3’s theme is “Wealth,” particularly wealth of talents. I haven’t drawn much in a long, long time. I used to be the kid who was always drawing–in school, at home–whenever, wherever. I decided I wanted to make a new portrait of Loki, but was very hesitant to do so. But after several false starts, I let my hand move and create something, even if it is rather minimal. The lesson I learned was that I want and need to draw more, and that I need to get Crowquill pens and india ink, my favorite art tools. Even so, I was satisfied with the rather seductive look of mischief that emerged in this drawing.

Day 4’s theme is “Love.” But instead of having a day of childlike fun and frolic, recapturing the lost innocence and joy of youth (as suggested), I gave several hours of hypnosis and counseling time to a friend who needed to quit smoking and who had some heavy issues to confront in the process.

Day 5’s theme is “Ego.” Loptson suggested breaking a personal taboo “that challenges your current identity.” Well, I ended up making a phone call to someone I’d worked very, very hard to leave and it resulted in a reconciliation of sorts (but on much different terms). I also made a gesture of love and forgiveness to another person who has hurt me very deeply. That was definitely an ego challenge, forcing me to connect with the vulnerable humanity of others, and to be vulnerable myself. So… unexpected, that! And I won’t say I’m comfortable, but I am glad.

Day 6’s theme is “Sex” and it coincided with my birthday! But since I spent the day driving to the San Francisco Bay Area to see my children for a lunch date, perhaps the day for me was more about “Reproduction!”

Plus, as a sexologist, sex educator, and tantra practitioner, there aren’t really a lot of ways to challenge myself about sex these days. Especially since I lack a human partner. I’d say I’m also well aware of Loki as an almost tantric deity who is very connected to the deep, cosmic aspects of libido and sexual energy.

So we’re back to Day 7, “Thinking.” I’ll report on today and tomorrow in my next blog. I also feel as if I want to repeat this series of rituals in the Spring. I don’t know why, I just do.

Hail Loki! And big thanks to Dagulf Loptson for his excellent book!

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Mauna Kea-Facing More Desecration

Heartbreaking news. The Hawai’i State Supreme Court has ruled in favor of construction of yet another industrial-strength development on Sacred Mauna Kea. The heroic case presented by native Hawaiians and allies–the Protectors aka na Kia’i–against the development of this amazingly corrupt and disrespectful project consists of legal-based, fact-based, Hawaiian culture-based, and environmentally-based arguments which all demonstrated, without a doubt, the manifold adverse effects of this humungous building proposed for a delicate conservation district, atop the island’s aquifer, on top of one of the most sacred mountains in all the Pacific. Watch this beautiful documentary, Mauna Kea-Temple Under Siege, for background on an earlier struggle against the Keck Telescope.

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Amy Marsh, Mauna Kea Kia’i Encampment, Mother’s Day, 2015.

I am stunned and heartbroken by this news. It was my privilege to stand alongside my former partner in this struggle for almost fourteen years. He was and is one of the petitioners in the court case and constested case hearings which challenged this project. I have had a pretty good ringside seat for many years, knowing what this effort has cost him and the other petitioners. Not just in money, but in family time, self-care time, and the intense effects of constant stress and trauma on individual, family, and community health. Oh, I could go on. I could! But for the moment, I am just simply appalled.

But powerful money interests appear to have won for the moment. The combined influences of CalTech, the Gordon and Betty Moore Foundation, and numerous public officials with now nicely greased palms, have formed a juggernaut determined to roll forward over sacred land.

And it’s not just sacred land. It’s Kanaka Maoli  (native Hawaiian) land which was taken and is held by force by the U.S. government, and which–in the opinion of the World Court of Arbitration at The Hague (Lance Larsen vs. The Hawaiian Kingdom)–is an unlawfully occupied nation-state (country) deprived of its proper functioning government. In other words, Hawai’i is not a legitimately acquired “state” of the U.S. and this is becoming more widely known both within Hawai’i and in the most influential circles of international law.


“I have come to understand that the lawful political status of the Hawaiian Islands is that of a sovereign nation-state in continuity but a nation-state that is under a strange form of occupation by the United States resulting from an illegal military occupation and a fraudulent annexation.”

–Dr. Alfred M. DeZayas, Feb. 25, 2018, written as a Memorandum of the United Nations Human Rights Office of the High Commissioner.*


So, TMT and just about everything else inflicted on Kanaka Maoli and descendents of Hawaiian Kingdom nationals (naturalized citizens) by the “fake state” government is a probably a war crime as per international law. Got that? The situation in Hawai’i is THE longest running occupation in recent world history, but most people don’t even know this. (See this news  and community meeting video regarding a local elected official’s efforts to take action on the war crimes issues.)

I will publish a link of the petitioners’ official response to this decision when I see it.


For more information on the Hawaiian Kingdom, see https://www.hawaiiankingdom.org

See also political history of the Hawaiian Kingdom.

* Source: Video of Presentation by Councilwoman Jen Ruggles, Puna, Hawai’i.

**This is an overs-simplified statement for me to make. Please see this page called Government Re-established.


“Biohazard” Section of this Blog Post

Now, I am not trying to “center” myself here, but I want you do know why I, a non-Hawaiian, care so deeply about this issue. (And yes, this is a “woo” blog but my spiritual life has always been mixed with my life as an activist, so political and social justice matters will appear from time to time.)

My long history of supporting Hawaiian independence and the struggle to protect Mauna Kea as an ally (and later as the partner of a native activist and cultural practitioner) was the result of various spiritual epiphanies and events that took place prior to, and concurrent with, my learning the truths of Hawaiian history and the political situation. I had been granted certain life-changing experiences in Hawai’i, and therefore I felt a duty to “give back” to the people and the ‘aina (land) in the form of activism and support. I didn’t always do things in the right way or with the right understanding of protocols and local ways, and to my sorrow I realize I was sometimes (often?) clumsy and off-putting in my enthusiasm, but I did try to help when I could.

My “wyrd” threw me a curveball when it upended my previously comfy residence in a San Francisco-centric world of punk rock, motherhood and marriage, anthroposophy and Waldorf schools, and environmental health activism. That “spontaneous combustion” I wrote about previously took place in this context of a “Hawaiian” connection (the nature and meaning of this event is still a central mystery in my life). My wyrd has now changed course, bringing me back from my love affair with the islands (and my island love affair), to purposeful encounters with other spiritual traditions and other urgent political and social justice issues. I’m in Pomo land, here on Turtle Island, and I stay aware of that as I adjust to my new surroundings.

But I don’t forget Hawai’i. And I don’t forget the Mauna. And I stay in solidarity, though with more distance now. I know the fight to protect this mountain and other sacred lands of Hawai’i is far from over. Please check out the Protect Mauna Kea Facebook group, and other groups supporting Kanaka Maoli struggles for independence, restoration of the Kingdom, and other social and political justice issues. Thank you.

#KuKiaiMauna #AoleTMT


Some of my contributions over the years included making websites for people and causes, writing articles, and raising modest sums of money:

“America’s Tibet,” Hawai’i Island News, 2004, with Kukauakahi Ching and David Ingham.

PDF of article in Slingshot, a publication associated with The Long Haul in Berkeley (however, I know better than to write “Hawai’ian” with an ‘okina. The editors didn’t consult me): 2005_Slingshot_1 

2005_Slingshot_2

2005_Slingshot_3

I originally designed and maintained this website for one of the Kia’i (Protectors). I also made a website for StopBombingHawaii.org but it seems to be gone now, or at least, I can’t find it. There is a Facebook group though, so please go there!

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Amy Marsh, circa 2015. T-shirt designed by Laulani Teale.

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Declaration 127-A Stand Against Hate

A few years ago, “180 organizations in over 20 different nations” created a repudiation of the Asatru Folk Assembly’s (AFA) policies of discrimination against people of color and LGBTQIA people. Read about this here, at Huginn’s Heathen Hof, which sponsored the Declaration. After the specific language concerning the AFA, the following paragraph is relevant and significant.


“…We hereby declare that we do not condone hatred or discrimination carried out in the name of our religion, and will no longer associate with those who do. We will not grant the tacit approval of silence in the name of frið, to those who would use our traditions to justify prejudice on the basis of race, nationality, orientation, or gender identity.”


D127stickerBNow, because this Declaration 127 was written and then signed by a number of Heathen and Asatru, or otherwise Norse or Northern-identified spiritual groups and people, a denunciation of discrimination against people of other religions wasn’t included. That’s because this was a statement of acceptance of all people wanting in, not all people in general, but I like to think that the general principles of inclusivity and non-discrimination are implied in Declaration 127 and that solidarity with people of all religions is therefore also implied.

That’s a terribly important point to ponder. As are critiques of Declaration 127 which “does not go far enough,” as Snoof Madrune Obline blogged in 2016. We need actions as well as “dissociation.”

Even so, yesterday I signed Declaration 127 as an individual, and also in the name of the Lokabrenna Tiny Temple. I am a member of The Troth and am in the Heathens Against Hate Facebook group, but in my mind, my signing Declaration 127 puts ME on notice that I’d better step up my game. My statement below doesn’t mean that I now get to sit back, satisfied that I’ve done my share in “speaking out.”


I, Amy R. Marsh and the Lokabrenna Tiny Temple, fully support Declaration 127 and am completely opposed, now and forever, to racism, misogyny, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, anti-Semitism, Islamophobia, discrimination against immigrants, and all other barbaric superstitions and acts of injustice, violence and hate.


These times are too dire. And people are dying–have been dying for decades, centuries!–as a result of (1) acts of violence and (2) acts of complacency.

There’s a lot to unpack here. I can’t do it in one blog. What I can offer, and it is a poor, outdated document at best, is the Real Zombie Apocalypse Resistance Handbook which is chock full ‘o links to good organizations to support. I did it in the first month after the 2016 election, and though I meant to make monthly updates, I just…couldn’t…keep up… with all the atrocious developments in the new…regime. But go there, find even more organizations to support as you (and I) gather our remaining strength and wits, leverage our community ties, and try to figure out how to stop this horrific slide into utter, reactionary, barbaric fascism.

1. Resistance Handbook – First Issue

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The Illusion of Someone at Home

It was the flock of birds that did it, silhouetted against the sunset, wheeling over the lake, spiraling as if drawn by the gravitational force of something huge in the air, hovering unseen. Evening is often a melancholy time for me, but while driving home on Highway 20 just outside Clearlake Oaks, the movement of the bird flock spiraling around that unseen center made me acutely aware that I was going home to a house empty of everything except cats, gods, and furniture. And this phrase rang through my mind, “the illusion of someone at home.”

Or maybe I can blame this mood on E.B. White, who could have set me up for this. While chowing down on Thai eggplant (spicy) and jasmine rice, I was snickering to myself over a collection of essays in an ancient volume titled One Man’s Meat, particularly his essay, “Clear Days.” But tucked in among the mirthful elements White writes as a city slicker self-exiled to rural Maine during World War II. He fit in with the hearty locals who hunted, fished and farmed about as well as I do here in Lake County. At least he had a wife, child, a *turkey and quite a few chickens.


“It is not likely that a person who changes his pursuits will ever succeed in taking on the character or the appearance of the new man, however much he would like to. I am farming, to a small degree and for my own amusement, but it is a cheap imitation of the real thing.” (E.B. White, One Man’s Meat, Harper & Brothers, New York, 1950, p. 21.)


Is this evening’s melancholy a reaction of anti-climax? For the last three months I’ve focused intently on (1) developing a consistent spiritual/devotional/magical practice and (2) creating and dedicating the first incarnation of the “Lokabrenna Tiny Temple.” (The dedication took place earlier today.) So when I decided early this evening to take myself out to dinner at the Chinese/Thai restaurant three miles down the road, I did it partially to reward myself. I usually don’t mind eating alone as long as I have a book. Sure, everyone looks when I arrive alone and am seated (alone!), but I soon cease to be interesting. I’m too old to be worth much attention. My Jezebel days are over.

I usually order my main course, tea (either hot green tea or Thai iced tea) and a “to go” order of pork satay with peanut sauce to enjoy later. That “to go” order puts a different spin on my situation. Now I look like a woman who may have gotten away for a little while (to save her sanity?) but who has promised to bring something good back to a someone who is waiting for her return. I can’t deny that I kind of like this faux conjugal narrative.

Life after divorce, which now also includes life after breaking up with the lover who disrupted the marriage, does take some getting used to. One could argue that I brought it on myself–and that I made bad choices that now result in my present loneliness. However, I wasn’t in this pickle all on my own, but I decline to diss the gentlemen involved. In a ridiculous way, I still love them both.

But I digress…

0I noticed yesterday that I enacted another bit of faux conjugality at the grocery store. It wasn’t an intentional deception but when I bought that bottle of cinnamon-flavored whiskey for Loki, along with a gift bag to hold it and a very large cupcake that looked like a cheerful but modest birthday treat, it looked as if I would soon be celebrating something or other with a (human) friend or partner. To that young man behind me in line, who asked what the whiskey tasted like, I said truthfully that I had no idea, that I was buying it for someone else. I refrained from saying who.

I am not sure what to do with these thoughts and feelings, except to endure them. I certainly do not think that my devotional practices and magical fervor are ill-placed or directed at an illusion. My “most trusted” patron deity, Loki, feels very “real” to me in terms of a specific “energy” that I sense (sometimes more distinctly than at other times) but I do wish that there was also a human recipient in my life. Without the center of family (husband and children) I feel as if I am whirling into the gravitational vortex of an unknown realm, and that if I stopped flapping my wings in hopes of escaping this fate, I would instead drop like a rock into chilly waters below.

It’s these between-times that are so tough to take…these liminal spaces of waiting, not knowing…of becoming but never “arriving”…of not belonging completely to any one place or group… But wait! That’s Loki’s turf and apparently, it’s also mine…

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*I have turkeys too–a wild flock strolls almost daily through my property.

Tiny Temple Dedicated Oct. 28th

Today Lake County had the most spectacular sunrise! Pink clouds were streaming all over the sky (like flame-colored hair) and the silvery moon (waning gibbous) was visible in the West. I felt this was a wonderful omen for today’s dedication of the “Lokabrenna Tiny Temple.” The temple is a small former woodshop that I’m (still) fixing up and have dedicated to my patron god, Loki. Lokabrenna means “Loki’s Torch” and refers to the star, Sirius.

10:28 Lokabrenna DedicationThe process of preparing for the dedication was more complex than I anticipated. Yesterday I bought offerings: Maker’s Mark cinnamon-flavored whisky, a giant fancy cupcake with rainbow frosting, and a fancy donut with multi-colored sprinkles.  Today I did some heavy-duty cleaning, some purification and protection rituals, and had to clean up myself before beginning the ritual at 11:45 AM.

Let me admit that I don’t know what I’m doing, exactly. I put this dedication ritual together based on online blót instructions (but without any sacrifice, so it wasn’t a blót after all), some other sources, and my own quirky tastes. Basically I hailed Loki by many names (including “Rebel Without a Pause” and “Charming Iconoclast” as well as more traditional kennings and names); read Dagulf Loptson’s Loki’s Stave out loud; read a number of greetings, poems, and limericks collected for this purpose from two Lokean Facebook groups; offered the offerings; drank a toast (I had cinnamon tea–I don’t drink alcohol); and then asked for Loki’s blessing on both the temple and the temple cat, Meowington. I had about twenty minutes of meditation, then I thanked all involved and closed the ritual. It was over by around 12:30 PM.

My “epic fail” moment came when I wanted to pour a drink for Loki. I couldn’t get the plastic off the top of the whiskey bottle. I had no knife or scissors handy, and try as I might, I could not pry the stiff plastic away from the bottletop using only my fingernails. Finally, I leaned out of the circle to grab a screw off a nearby shelf and scraped away with it until I was able to make a dent in the plastic. In all, it took several minutes to open the bottle. During this time I imagined Loki laughing his ass off… (My self-styled “Loki’s Plucky Comic Relief” moniker well earned in those moments.)

During the meditation I felt happy. I might even venture to say that I felt Loki’s happiness and approbation. I don’t know where I’m going with all this. I certainly don’t set myself up as any kind of “priestess” or leader (I’m a newbie devotee, for one thing), but the call to create the temple was and is real, and now I just see what happens next.

Today I am also on Day Two of “Eight Days of Loki” (again, from Dagulf Loptson’s book) and will follow that with nine days of “Breaking Loki’s Bonds” (another Loptson ritual). In the middle of all this we have Samhain and my birthday (Nov. 1). It’s a very intense time for me (and for all of us, really, but I can’t address that right now).

Hail Loki! I feel happy that I’ve completed my promise to you, and now we learn what we’ll do with this tiny temple!

MeowingtonGuardian
Temple cat, Meowington, as Guardian of the Threshold

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Selkie

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The statue of the selkie in Mikladalur. 11 August 2016. Seehundfrau in Mikladalur. Author: Siegfried Rabanser. Creative Commons permission.

Today, as the veils between the worlds thin and stretch in preparation for Samhain (and my birthday on Nov. 1st), I feel moved to share a poem I wrote quite a long time ago, when I was still taking care of my own young children. The story in this poem is of a seal woman (Selkie) who resists the power of her seal skin, which is attempting to bring her back to the ocean. She chooses to remain in human form because she loves her children and realizes they may need her guidance as they grow, as they too share her fey lineage. I identified with the Selkie in this poem, as she was struggling against her deepest sense of self and the pull of another kind of life, for the sake of her children.

This poem is in my self-published “slim volume of poetry” titled, I Was a Hybrid in a Black Brassiere, available through Magcloud.

For an audible experience of haunting beauty, scroll down to listen to the young Joan Baez singing “Silkie,” a song that has haunted me since I was a child.


Selkie

O Selkie, slip into your skin!

“I mustn’t! I cannot!”
Home waters! The warm currents beckon!
“Swimming under the surface, rain making dimples in the sea…”

(Then thought of fruit she gave to the children, nothing for herself.)
The open ocean, Selkie!
“It rains here too.”

(She was well adjusted, took comfort in the homely tasks.)
“A basket of socks, sort them so: Cuff to cuff and toe to toe,
Those for him and those for her…”

…Until her fingers brushed the fur!
She knew it well, in every bone,
A salty sea relic, singing of home.

It would appear and then vanish, Laying in wait,
Curled in a cupboard, Hung behind drapes.
Subtle as a siren, it put forth its claims, Persuasive, yet merciful,
For in all their long debate,
Madness did not come.
By now she knew it well,

And still resisted.

For she must be alert!
For sea stories and endocrine omens,
For strange veins of blood messages, potent yet diminished,
As the children come of age.
She must be alert,
Even as the liquid life of dinosaurs roars through their plastic toys…

O Selkie?

(She sighed for the dip and slide of each effortless glide…)

“No tears are ever shed that are not salt.”
Even in the brackish air of her lovely home, her fingers tasted water.

She went to the phone. She cancelled the appointment,
Knowing no therapist would ever understand.

(Copyright Amy Marsh. Albany, CA. Circa 2002)