Hera at Denia

Myths abound about the wrath of Hera in many different fronts. When it comes to
being in a seemingly steady state of pissed off Hera's temper is legendary. But
there are also lesser known tales of Hera that include the passing on of her
wrath that is referred to as "a physical transmission of kholos (anger)" where
after the rage of her breast would feed another. She did it with Achilles in
the Iliad (24.57-610) and there is also the remains of a 3rd century B.C.
Etruscan mirror that depicts Hera nursing Hercules which lends to the physical
transmission from deity and, at the same time, hints at contradiction to the
more common myths surrounding the relationship between Hera and Hercules.

In the Iliad Hera quite literally plays the role of a metaphorical viper
(ekhidna) and Achilles is her Nemean lion and she psychologically nourishes him
until he finally rejects her in part to Thetis. Both the viper and the lion
being extremely important metaphoric personifications worth noting here in Denia
being that both of these symbolic gestures appeared long before Hera herself
did.

In earlier Argolic tradition, this kind of "nursing" from Hera to hero can be
presumed to not be psychological, as later retelling makes it out to be, but
physical as it is described in the Iliad.

A massively and all too common mistake when it comes to the portrayal of Hera
today is the limitation of her being little more than the wife of Zeus even
though there is a huge amount of archeological evidence that suggests that their
actual relationship was anything but a close one and, in the ancient world, Hera
held much more sway with the people than Zeus did. When Hera had temples
peppering the landscape Zeus was only sparingly even referred to and didn't have
a single temple anywhere.

Hera is, in fact, an earth goddess. And as an earth goddess nursing earthlings,
Hera is a natural transmitter of the menos and kholos that both sustain and
bestialize the warrior. The latter being something of a "price" of sorts if one
were to consider mortal perception and opinion. Most, at least in the modern
age, don't like the idea of ever being portrayed or interpreted as a predatory
monster which is a "phase of the transmission". But, then again, most people in
modern paganism never really entertain the wrath of the gods on any level:
psychological, physical, spiritual, or otherwise. Especially when that wrath is
to be embodied in physical form which transcends the boundary of common
acceptability. Which has led us here where the notion is being explored.

This branches off of the first idea of the Gods intervening on behalf of their
chosen by simply acting out or venting their anger on those who came along with
ill intent. The idea being that if you offer offense to the chosen you also
offer it to the God or Goddess the chosen is linked to. The rarity of these
occurrences may be in part to the fact that the majority do not actually have
the relationship to the Gods that they like to think they do. The most common
mistake in the attempt to establish such a relationship is the belief that the
Gods are there to serve the whims and wishes of mortals. People just don't seem
to like to read anymore. And when they do, they read the wrong things.

Much of Hera's transformation is due to the writings of Homer. While Homer did
have her nurturing rage he depicts her as only exercising her power in fleeting
moments and in being far more subservient to Zeus that she actually is. Her
chthonic roar (another noted symbolism in Denia) and firestorms is altered from
actual battles of elemental power to metaphors of pure bravado. Homer depicts
her as a very limited goddess with no power to smite or really punish anyone, a
goddess beneath the will of Zeus and in a role of an annoyed "Stepford Wife"
full of little more than rantings and plots. A perspective that is completely
inaccurate to the pre-Homeric visions and interactions of Hera and the mortal
world as well as a vast majority of archeological evidence.

In my opinion, Homer's approach was done on purpose and reflected the social
climate of the time in which he lived. A time where women in general were being
oppressed and the male began to take dominance over the feminine. A trend that
really held on until the last century. By demeaning Hera and the other Goddesses
he demeaned women in general and set up mythology for a male dominated area of
subject matter.

Times have changed.

Still, there is this, as an example of Hera in this context:

"I'll spread and evil flame and stir up the sea in a fierce blast of Zephyr and
white-clouded Notos to burn the Trojan corpses and their battlegear. Meanwhile,
burn up the trees on the Xanthos banks. Plunge him into fire. Don't let him
divert you with honeyed words or threats. Cease not your rage until I cry out
with a loud voice. Then withhold your fire." (Il. 21.334-41=e)

Still not exactly the description of a Goddess of marriage and birth who views
herself subservient to anyone or limited to a nurturing role while being all but
powerless. Even in the Iliad her rage held sway and was undeniable.

In modern times, Hera at Denia is as undeniable as her influence in ancient myth
with many preludes to her incarnation. The Denian lions, the Roar, the viper,
the defiance of the modern portrayal of pagan identity, the transcendent
philosophies and approaches to all the things that make our lives what they are
and sets them just beyond the normal scope of mundane existence.

Of course, there are countless other facets to explore under the current thread.
But I would be surprised if anyone made it this far into it with such a serious
and more scholarly feel to the subject matter. This is not another colorful tale
of Denian experience. Where I am concerned this is the sum of all things and
something that reaches back to the beginning and, like a child, had to be raised
before being let loose on the world and the minds of men.

There is more.

There is always more...

A Dangerous Question of Ill Intent

Since the very start of my journey I have had a lot of adventures and seen a lot
of what would be considered unbelievable things by the general population.
Through it all there is also the illusive hint of a subject I've never
approached before.

In most forums notes of things like karma and the law of three abound. The idea
that there is a triple recoil for anything one sends out has always been a bit
odd to me. I do believe that there is a price, power has to come from somewhere,
but it tends to be in equal measure, at least in my experience. I don't believe
or have ever experienced "metaphysical inflation". But then again, I'm
admittedly odd.

The moral guidelines are great for most mortals. It makes them feel a little bit
better for the retched things they really are. Do onto others, the three fold
law, karma, the checks an balances of "bad behavior" abound. But not everyone or
thing abides or is bound by such limitations.

Obviously, I have made just as many, if not more, enemies along the way as I
have companions. I've done and said things to people right here in the Den that
defied everything considered decent in the world of men. And I've done things
beyond the Den that would make the devil call me Sir. And it seems to be paying
off!

But there have also been many, many instances where I didn't do a damned thing
and very, very bad things happened.

Now, I'm sure there have been many who have tried their best to weave a curse or
some kind of binding over me. Probably more than I'll ever know. Odd that those
things never really stick. And my character being what it is I dare and provoke
them to try just so I can watch the aftermath. That's one thing. But what about
something as simple as trash talking?

I've seen this happen time and time again. Normally, when it comes to being
blessed by the Gods with the gift of trash talking I'm the guy hated the most.
And I have no problems in admitting that I enjoy myself immensely when offered
the opportunity to use that gift. It's one of my most entertaining qualities I
think. But at the end of the day, that's all it is for me: entertainment. I
smile while doing it. There is a playful emotion behind it. It's not always so
for the other guy...or girl. I am an equal opportunity trash talker. The oddity
is when they trash talk, with ill intent, and there is an unrealistic backlash
for it...and not from me. I can even go one better and offer black and white
proof that I don't even have to be present for the backlash to occur. Invoking
my name is enough. And I'll hear tale of it all weeks and sometimes months or
even years later. I always categorized it in the "whatever" file in my mind and
blew it off. That is until I actually got blamed for a cascade of bad situations
that I had no conscious involvement in, involving two former Den members who
have had a stint of "bad luck" in the extreme after doing nothing but trash
talking. Now, we're not talking about the car breaking down, financial stresses,
or anything we might think of as mundane bad luck. We're talking loss of jobs,
complete emotional breakdowns, nightmares, and undiagnosed debilitating physical
pain that never stops. And since there is no other "logical" explanation for
these events or the seeming coincidental nature that they took place just after
the trash talking occurred, I've been blamed for all of it.

And, of course, all the friends, family, and sympathizers with the unfortunate
parties have sacrificed their own credibility by backing the idea that I ruined
these people's lives and left them all broken and in pain and such. Even though
I had no clue or any insight into what was happening to them as it happened nor
did I give them a galactic bitch slap like I once did right here on the board
years ago. I honestly had nothing to do with their misfortune. But something
did. So, what was it?

These are recent events and I've been following along with them like a snake in
the grass out of sheer wonder more so than in the idea that I love seeing people
talk about me when they think I can't see or hear. But the story there is
getting more far fetched than even I could imagine up. And, oddly enough, the
more it goes on and on, even without my involvement, the worse things seem to
get. When the sympathizers offer up their idea of "aid" they come back with
"OMGs I got hit too!" And I don't know whether to laugh at the dumb asses or be
kinda freaked out. They are coming up with all kinds of fluffy ideas on how to
"stop me". Hell, I never started!

Now, my logical half is chalking the whole bit up to a few things. Coincidence
(which I don't believe in), cascading effects (one bad thing leads to another),
and of course the simple fact that people always need something to blame. It,
like trash talking, is little more than entertainment. There is really nothing
else there.

BUT...

The wanderer in me has to entertain the question of "what if?" Which brings me
to my question and the direction I'd like to go here.

Do you think that the Gods, or any other entity that we might work with as
Pagans, "look out for their own"? And how far will they go to do just that? Or
is this a form of *gulps* "karma"?

Mythology and legends abound with notes of the Gods or other beings being over
protective, extremely vindictive, and clearly not bound by the limitations of
dogma, morals, or romantic notions. Throughout world mythology the Gods have
always had their favorites and have whimsically defied even other Gods to favor
their chosen; often saying "To hell with the consequences."

Within the pages of the book the idea is acceptable. But bring them up in the
modern world, under modern circumstances and the idea seems to be taboo. You
just don't mention it to anyone because you are most likely insane for thinking
that the Gods or anything will favor you. It makes you look egotistical and self
righteous right? Opinions don't change the fact that these things still happen.
We just never really hear about it because no one ever had the courage to open
the topic.

We spend all of our lives in service and worship of the Gods. We tell tales and
write poems of their interactions in our lives and how they manifest. And this
is all common topical matter. There seems to be a wall however on the idea that
the same Gods we worship and serve would step in and maliciously rip apart
anyone who comes at us with ill intent. Even though much of our myths and
legends are colored with this very thing occurring on an amazingly common basis.

Past and present experiences have given me enough undeniable evidence that
though the year may have changed, the Gods have not. And it comes down to, as
does many things, there are simply things that logic cannot explain within the
limitations of the modern mind. And it was the sum of such events that led to my
final decision for the dedication ceremony I performed last night during the
Eclipse. I begin that new journey here in wonder. The perfect place to start.

The past and ongoing current tale that has me listed as the source and target
mean nothing really when it comes to the subject matter, beliefs, and outrageous
spin-offs from the imaginations of miserable and broken people. Some of whom
have never even met me or had any direct interaction with me what so ever. You
are who you hang with and often enough you will share in their fate. There is a
reason why people say "misery loves company". If you don't want to be miserable
simply rid yourself of miserable people and you'll increase your odds of a good
dose of happy.

That tale of me will pass like they always do. It's just a story for my part
because I'm not really involved. I watch it kinda like I watch TV. Half assed.

But, with the thinking that there is a lesson in everything what lesson is there
in this?

I can't be the only one around that this kind of thing happens to. You can call
the source of it anything you want. From guardian angels, to gods, to my pet
dragon, to the spirit of my grandfather. I don't care who or what gets the
credit for it. I just want to know more about the how and why it happens. And
more importantly, what extremes are sometimes reached when it does.

Where Everyone, Almost Always, Screws Up

When it comes to talking about spiritual paths in the pagan community it seems
that almost everyone has their own and don't often mind referring to it on
profiles or in writing, the bulk of the latter rarely exceeding a paragraph or
two. Even more rarely mentioned than any meaty in depth bits of wisdom, that
they somehow gleaned from their chosen path, is talking of the Gods and
Goddesses associated with their beliefs (if only at the foundation marker) or
those they call on during spell/ritual workings.

It's difficult to get people to talk of the Gods they claim to worship or
halfheartedly follow. All too often deity doesn't really play a major role in
their daily lives. It's simply not a daily thing, not a part of their studies…if
they study at all. A good majority don't study paganism but run all over the
place claiming they "know" about paganism. And it's the same when it comes to
deity. The reason they wont talk about the gods is because they don't know shit
about them. They invoke their names, cross pollinate them in their salad bar
styled rituals (that are little more than 17 layers of pure fuck up), and call
themselves the wise elders, priests, and priestesses of the modern community.
Yet, one would think, that if you're going to label yourself as a "High"
anything you best have some "Higher" knowledge of the shit your talking about.
Otherwise, your nothing but a fraud, a wanna-be, a half assed lazy idiot.

The notion of dedicating oneself to deity is commonly about as vague and
ridiculously lame as just about anything else they accomplish or produce
afterwords. In many parts deity has been simmered down, reduced, handicapped,
and become as completely meaningless as it could possibly get. No names, no
histories, no personalities, no true spheres of influence, no reality or
historical fact. They do that because when there is literally nothing there to
explore, get to know, debate over, or defend absolutely no effort is required.
Their vision of the gods have them with no identity of their own aside from
being in the service of the whims and wishes of a lazy, indolent people obsessed
with instant gratification. An obsession, they find, that never really manifests
and when it comes to gaining favor from meaningless and hallow Gods with no
names and scarcely accurate backgrounds, things tend to fizzle out pretty
quickly. The bottom line is: if you don't have the right name, number, and area
code, you can't make the call.

If you ever want to see people squirm, and nine time out of ten screw up, ask
them about their personal deity(ies). It's both hilarious and sad enough to make
any self respecting pagan embarrassed for all our kind no matter what path
individuals claim or attempt to follow. It is why they never really seem
comfortable, never at rest, never complete or whole. They are almost always in a
state of spiritual, emotional, and mental flux. They can't make up their minds
because they simply don't know. And for ignorance being bliss there sure are a
lot of miserable, incredibly powerless fucks out there who are completely
oblivious to the fact that they are in fact ignorant and powerless.

Some eliminate the idea of deity all together and go with the line of "earth
based" which sounds kinda anti-spiritual by its own right. Earth based? "Nature"
based may be a more sympathetic term. But who has dominion over nature? Depends
on the path of course, but it almost always comes down to a deity or spirit and
almost always goes right back to what they don't really know anything about. You
have to love those city people who claim to follow a nature based religion but
never get out of their houses.

Here in Denia there are all sorts of backgrounds and spiritual paths working in
harmony with each other. One is never above or below another because in that
harmony and sense of balance and peace the Den becomes something more; a
personal guide in answering the question: How can I light up the dark? The only
time deity is ever defended here in Denia is if one attempts the lame and far
too common trend of claiming that one God or Goddess is the same as another. If
you are ever in the mood for a galactic bitch slap try telling me that Hera and
Juno are the same person.

The closet thing the Den has to a "patron deity" is Hera and that is only
because she is mentioned and depicted more than any other. Hera does have a
profound and fundamental influence on how the Den works beyond the seen web. And
Hera, like most other deities has been massively misrepresented by modern day
pagans. There are entire chapters of her life that are backed by archeological
evidence that are missing from common knowledge. The most prominent is her
relationship to Zeus and being misinterpreted as the Goddess of Marriage. She
could give two drops of monkey piss about the foundations and weaving's of
marriage, especially on a mortal level. In fact, Hera was NEVER even depicted at
the side of Zeus until the 7th century A.D. in a wood carving that has so much
symbolism against the idea of marriage it's ridiculous and nearly impossible to
argue, nor was the piece found in a sacred site or had any connection to cult
use. That says a lot considering Hera was born nearly 25,000 years prior to the
wood cut being made and nearly everyone today considers her souly as the "wife"
of Zeus and Queen of the Gods.

Hera was born on February 1, 24,000 B.C. (according to the archeological record
of her earliest appearance on Earth on the bank of the Imbrasos river under a
lugos tree. February 1st can be viewed as her day of "birth" due to the Bronze
Age festival of Tonea. During this yearly procession the effigy of Hera was
taken to the banks of the river where she was bond to a tree and washed in a
fertility rite.

Hera, in her original role, was the Goddess of Spring and Mistress of Wild
Animals; a fertility Goddess with dominion over all life and production. She was
also a fierce protector of her people. Her annual washing in the river renewed
both her virginity and blessing to the river itself, the "veins" of life within
nature. Her arrival on the banks of the river hearkened the return of Spring and
new life. This was the role she played until she was first re-mythologized in
the 6th century B.C. and her sacred pomegranate that represented everything from
the seed of life to Hera's own blood abruptly vanishes from all of her temples
or as votive offerings. Though the pomegranate is still recognized as being
sacred to Hera very few elaborate on the details of why.

The same holds true with the peacock and the cuckoo birds. Lesser known things
sacred to Hera are the dove, horses, olive, oak, pear, juniper, willow, bovines,
pine cones, poppy heads, rivers and streams (her original domain) and lions. The
cow was not really sacred to Hera so much as it was attributed to her due to
tale and in the tale she was not really fond of the cow. It's a simple
misinterpretation…a lack of sight.

This is just an extremely small piece of Hera's biography that I have learned in
my relationship with her. And the more I learn the more angry I get at all of
the half assed reports of her character and influence in the world of men. Oddly
enough, I did not "choose" Hera as my patron Goddess. It's a bit more
complicated than that. But it is a relationship that has benefited me and mine
greatly in the past, further back into my own life than I ever realized. And I
honor her correctly in turn. By learning.

Know your Gods, know them well, and know them deeply. If they are not visiting
your home unannounced on nearly a daily basis…you have work to do.

Bring Them Nightly

While I've never been a big fan of hand holding, bells and whistles, ritualistic practices that call on the nameless or cross pollinated Gods and Goddess of the bookshelf, the four corners, the Guardians of the Watchtowers, and whoever else the High Something-or-Other can throw in there just for good measure, I do have to admit that there are some ritualistic practices that I do daily (or nightly, as the case may be) ¦besides drinking coffee.

These are small, simple, and almost set to auto-pilot somewhere in the hard wiring of my brain. So every day and common that I don't really think about them anymore but never miss them. They are also practices that I never really gave much thought to. I was simply mused into doing them and so, I do them.

The first, and probably most vague in my mind, is my urge to wash my hands about 30 times a day. Sounds like a nice, healthy practice right? Especially during flu season. But I don't do it because I'm afraid of microscopic bugs or because my hands get dirty a lot. I do it simply because of the cleansing� I get from the running water. I do it because it washes away negativity in a kind of sympathetic magic for the things I get myself into on a daily basis. It calms me, relaxes me, and helps me to ground out and wash my hands of� anything I simply don't want to be carrying with me into the future.

A second grounding technique that one might catch me doing quite often is going outside, kneeling down, and placing my palms on the earth. As soon as my skin comes into contact with the earth I can feel the pulse of the world. The pulse travels up my arms and right into my gut. Then, without any will or effort from me what so ever the flow reverses and out it goes taking whatever it wants to take with it. Most of the time I feel refreshed and calm after such an experience. Other times, I feel like I want to lay right down there in the grass and simply fall asleep.

When I'm not looking for grounding but energy or musings, when I want to be calm and dreamy, I will inevitably find myself someplace high up. Perched on a high tree limb, setting on the roof over looking the gardens, and sometimes when I just need a quick dose I simply go upstairs and zone out through an open window for a while. A good deal of the titles that pop into my head for writing articles, my one-liners, and more poetic notes often come from someplace a lot higher than my girlfriend would like me to be.

I do most of my writing after dark. But even throughout the day you wont find me without a spiral bound notebook somewhere close at hand. Pen and paper are literally the coffee and cigarettes of any good writer. We just can't go long without them. But day or night, if I am getting into writing, it's a sure bet that I have a candle burning in front of my while I'm doing it. The primal energy that emanates off of a simple candle flame is a powerful thing. It gives me a focal point and perhaps even a scrying tool when I get lost in thought.

These are just a few examples of how elemental magic is woven into my daily routine. Rituals in their own right but rituals that are powerful and effective only because of their simplicity. These are the crayons that color a pagan lifestyle.

Beyond the elemental there is also another practice that I do every single night before going to bed. Now, my bedroom is so unlike any other room in the house it boarders on being a place that is not really part of the house at all but somewhere in-between the house and someplace else. Even though I have never quite been able to grasp where that someplace else is exactly.

The room is set up through and through to be someplace special. The main reason for that is because my alter to Hera is located in there. And, just like every other practice in my pagan life, this alter is no where near the book shelf style set up that you may often see examples of in pictures. Unlike many other self proclaimed practicing pagans and wiccans I know of, this alter is actually used for a lot more than baffling visitors (especially since no one ever really sees it except Courtney) and collecting dust. Mine gets used every single night, ritual not included.

Unlike many people I have my standard gear� that I wear every day which includes my wrist bands, my pentacle necklace, a chain that my son gave me for father's day, and on rare occasions “The Eye of Hera� itself that was mentioned in previous articles and adventures. There are two alter plates on Hera's alter where this things are returned every single night.

Whenever I decide to go to bed or simply just hide away in my room, I step before the alter and before my Goddess, take off all of the gear, and return them to their own resting place. What Hera does with them while I'm sound asleep is her business. I simply adopted a ritual that came to me completely out of no where one evening after I created the alter and have held to the nightly practice ever since.

The by the book ritualized practices you see today are often so complicated and time consuming that they are simply unrealistic and do more harm than good. Sure there is a time and place to put on a good show for your patron deities. But I like to think that those times are on the sabots and not meant for an everyday pagan lifestyle. Life is complicated enough on its own without us inventing new complications to further fuck up our day. Simplicity is an extremely rare and powerful thing because it is often from the heart when it happens. So, keep it simple. The Gods will respect you for that a lot sooner than they will all the showboating.

By the Blood of Hera

This past weekend my brother and I made the best of the warm weather by fixing
up our bikes for upcoming cross country adventures. New tires, tweaking gears,
new break pads and reflectors, an entire workup. We put this kind of time into
them because when the weather is right (or close to right) we log in hundreds of
miles on them every week. We love to ride. The challenge, the workout, the
adventure. This year we are planning to go further than ever before. And we're
already preparing for it.

While removing a reflector panel to replace it my hand slipped and I cut it on
what I guessed to be a gear spoke. It was a little cut with an oddly large
amount of blood. I made my brother stop working and come over to where I was,
showing him the cut and measuring his reaction. Without trying to explain I
smeared blood on the center of my handlebars and then on the center of his.
Then, made him follow me up to the attic where Hera's alter rests.

I instructed him to get an incense to bur at the alter while I coated The Eye of
Hera in my own blood and placed in on the offering plate. As my brother placed
the incense I allow three more drops of blood to fall in a triangle pattern on
the offer plate and simply stood there for a moment. Within seconds, the blood
stopped flowing, the stinging was gone, the cut nearly invisible.

Relax nay-sayers…Hera had little to do with it. It was a superficial cut and
minutes had passed. I'm a fast healer. Let's not loose sight of what just
happened. A completely spontaneous and unplanned ritual with no fancy crap. Just
blood and a voice in my head urging me to do it.

Why?

Hera is not exactly the pagan saint of travelers. Her and I have a common pain
along with a common goal and a certain distaste for certain things. Perhaps, it
was the Eye itself, this single tear stained by the Queen's own blood, that was
the seed of the idea that sprouted when I saw my own. As I gazed into Hera's
eyes afterwards I had no such questions in my own. I simply did what I was told.
No prayer, no ritual, no circle, no desire, no spells, no requested favor in
return.

Most of the time I am not comfortable with Hera. She tends to make me nervous.
The excited but fear based kind of nervous that some might feel in the presence
of authority figures. Or perhaps, more like that of a small child with an
over-protective, spank your ass as often as possible for your own damned good,
touch love mother. In all honesty, I'm afraid of her. I try to justify that fear
by calling it a healthy and humbling respect. And anyone who has ever truly
dealt with Hera could testify that it is much better to have her blessing than
her curse.

The call was for blood, the pull and urgency strong. Why and to what end doesn't
matter. She called, I answered, and that's that. In the process I had the
epiphany of "pure sacrifice". A gift given with absolutely nothing expected in
return and no mortal whims or showboating to pollute the natural notion of it.

This one called for blood. Since time forgotten one of the most sacred and
spiritual of all substances that could ever be sacrificed to the Gods. Even
Jesus sacrificed his blood for his god and the benefit of his people. Probably
something he picked up on by overhearing some Roman philosopher teaching at the
Temple of Apollo.

Hera called for blood and blood was given. If nothing more happens from this out
of no where ritual "my people" at the very least have been gifted with this
experience in return and all the many hidden lessons there-in and I took the
lesson of pure sacrifice. To freely give up something sacred simply because you
were given the opportunity…it speaks volumes about faith, will, and the path
itself. The experience that woke the muse and lends to mystery. The voice in my
head telling me to do it without hesitation, and how to do it right, the
overwhelming gut based pull that pulled me into it, the simple satisfaction of
doing it to the expectations of a force beyond myself, the fear tinged
humbleness that followed. The deed is done, the sacrifice given, and the
question remains:

Was it really a gear spoke that cut my hand?

The Eye of Hera

In the myth, Hera once captured Zeus for his constant infidelities and had the other gods backing her up until Zeus was set free by demons from Hades known as The Hundred Handers.

As punishment, Zeus hung Hera from the sky by golden chains where she cried out in pain and torment until Zeus grew weary of the sound. Zeus offered Hera a reprieve. If she swore to never act against him again he would set her free. The Queen of the Gods had little choice, but the ever cunning Hera allowed for one final blood stained tear to fall from her delicate cheek before taking the oath. And within that single tear was the Goddess�'s resolve, power, and rage. So heavy was the tear that it fell from Olympus and into the world of men, where it was destined to be lost, until the dawn of a new Age that was far beyond the influence of Zeus, as well as beyond the reach of the oath. For it was Hera who swore never to betray Zeus again�, not a mortal.

The Eye

Events that led to the current quest of the Dirge of Destiny included a short
tale of Hera. While I remain unaligned with any God or Goddess in particular I
do often acknowledge their constant "intervention" of the natural course of
events. In my own personal legend such interventions have led me into a
love/hate relationship with the essence of deities and their appearances in the
lives of mortals. Which I think happens more times than not and most mortals
never even realize it. That cloak and dagger tactic they tend to is something
that gets on my nerves. I do however make note of the times and places where
they appear and keep a close eye on how events unfold after such an appearance.
If they come to favor the quest then I acknowledge the aid and pay my dues. If
not, then I have no qualms what so ever about being defiant, even to a God.
My core perspective of paganism in general is based in ancient Europe rather
than traditions the likes of the Native Americans for example. My view is that
just because I was born in the United States does not mean that I should explore
the native practices of my birth land. While I know that I have some native
blood in me, I'm not a Native American, nor will I pretend to be just because
they're so close and of my ingrained into my local culture. And I do not
include Native American beliefs in my point of view of being witchcraft. It's
not witchcraft. It may be paganism by Mr. Webster's definition but what did he
know?
My spiritual compos points east and my most active spiritual muse peaks at
ancient Greece. I don't know why, don't really need to know. If I did it may
taint the raw instinct and hinder many of my abilities, abilities which I
sometimes ponder over during the exploration of myself. Mostly because I simply
do not know where the bulk of the information I put out to the world comes from.
I don't study ancient history and spiritual philosophy. I simply know it. And in
times when I don't relay the information or try to keep it to myself it feels
like I'm full which later leads to really bad headaches and all kinds of
physical pains. When I write, like now, off the top of my head, when I let go
and pass on whatever is coming into me, I feel better and the pain subsides.
I have also found that if I go for extended periods of time without the practice
or implementation of magic in my daily life, or to achieve an outstanding task,
things begin to manifest seemingly on their own. Which I have concluded means
that if I don't use it, I leak. Those uncontrolled spills attract things like
moths to a flame which come in to lap up the energy like thirsty wild dogs.
That's when they find me and I run into trouble. By using my abilities I don't
"light up" and attract them so much. Or the ones I do attract are just bottom
feeders that are easy enough to ward off or dispatch. (Yes, I kill them.)
I don't really subscribe to the idea of reincarnation so much as I do blood
memories or what in modern times is usually called cellular memory. I tend to
think that I am not a reincarnation of some ancient person but related to one.
My abilities as a pagan writer and witch are simple remnants left in my blood
from someone in my bloodline. And again, I don't know who it was or where in
time they were. I don't need to know because if I did I may ignore the gifts
given and the current quest in a quest to discover more about them than myself.
All that being said we get back to Hera. She is the only deity I have some sort
of odd emotional connection to and it is not always a good one. There is an
unknown history there; be it with one of my ancient ancestors or just me
personally. Maybe I got her attention somewhere along the way, maybe someone
connected to me did. Whatever the cause she appears more than any other. And it
was such an appearance that led to everything that happened in the Den and many
things that remain untold. From shutting the Den down to the waking up and
writing of the enigmatic Dirge itself it was all small steps in a process, all
preparation for a new journey. The key that unlocked all of the new revelations
and the perception of the quest itself was a feather.
Not long after I was mused to place a modern representation of Hera on the Den
homepage I found a peacock feather by the main fountain in Lisocia (the Denian
gardens). I don't believe in coincidences. I took the feather and placed in on
the alter in my room and left it alone figuring that the message would reveal
itself. It did in a thousand ways and here we are.
Since then two more peacock feathers have been added to the décor of my room,
these two crowning the headboard of my bed in a random musing of turning my bed
itself into an alter of sorts; which included doing much more to it than just
adding feathers to the headboard. But here's the rub: the whole bit goes against
my distrust of the gods.
The feather comes three fold just as there are now three feathers. First, a
peacock is one of Hera's sacred animals and probably the widest known. One of
the least known is a royal lion. Odd hu? Others include the cuckoo, and the
hawk. As the myth goes, Argos Paneptos was a hundred eyed giant charged by Hera
with Guardianship over a nymph. Upon his murder Hera honored her guardian and
his service by placing his eyes into the feathers of a peacock with the
knowledge and possibly a trick on mortals that anything the eyes of her guardian
sees she sees herself. Because of the connected sight the colors of the eye is
tinted by the color of Hera's eyes, an unforeseen side effect that remains as
the only evidence of her presence within them, that as far as I am aware of was
never really revealed until about two seconds ago. And since we're telling
secrets here we might as well also mention that by accepting a peacock feather
and bringing it into your home, no magic shielding or prayers, location or
alignments can hinder Hera from popping in unannounced whenever she takes the
fancy. What more did you expect out of a power craved goddess? Not to mention
her deep seeded mistrust of men in general who she wholeheartedly believes to be
whores. So, ladies, if for any reason you believe you man may be cheating on you
just get a peacock feather. She'll grant your vengeance for you in a heartbeat.
He might end up killed but hell hath no fury like a goddess scorned. She's not
allowed to punish Zeus any more so she takes her wrath out on mortals in his
stead. Bit of a history there too.
So, the feather is an open invite. It's also a nexus point from which her
influence and messages can more easily flow. The product to date of which has
been the Dirge, the course of the things that will be chronicled here in the
Den, and a few more personal matters that I don't have permission to mention
yet. And if you are trying to add any of this up and wondering why I am spilling
Hera's secrets all over the internet yet waiting for permission to say something
more, the answer is because I am not waiting for Hera's permission to do
anything. She knows me well enough to know that I don't seek the consent of the
gods any more than I pray for interventions. Hell, I don't even worship them. I
just acknowledge them. Which may very well be the key to gaining their
attention, I don't know.
Point is, she sees, I see, you see. See how things work out?
Now, Hera being Hera, while she does pull some nasty crap on those she tastes a
distaste to she also aids those she takes favor with for whatever reason. And
that is her link to the Den and its history. She took an interest in one of our
past tales. And it is that past tale which plots the course for the Dirge.
This transcends my personal quest that already has an end goal and has already
begun into things and lessons I find along the way; such as the Labyrinth
article. This isn't something that I can just do. It is a long and difficult
journey to the end which a lot of challenges that need to not be overcome so
much as defeated. The "Eye of Hera" is a physical object that I'm set to find
but doesn't have the inherent magic as one might expect from a
magical-thing-a-ma-jig that is suppose to aid in journeys. It's an "I'll know it
I when I find it" thing that has to be consecrated and ritualized before it is
of any use. A fact that I think is stupid because I think rituals are stupid.
Apparently Hera gets a kick out of them from time to time though, especially
when done by someone with my point of view on the matter. I can live with the
favor for a favor thing though. It's just a means to an end.
Trouble is that what I'm facing in the future can't be intervened upon by any
deity. They can help me get there but after that I'm on my own, sort of. I'll be
able to use the wisdom and insights gleaned along the way, the artifacts and
weapons I obtain. But the most important of anything is the headless drive to
prevail. There are things and tests that can and will cause pain. So, anger and
rage become important. Not because they are right or wrong but because they
offer a measure of protection. Rage, if used properly, can make you completely
unaware of the pain you're in. It gives you an edge than nothing else can grant.
That was what I found at the center of the labyrinth, the power of rage.
Now, I move on to the next place on the map. Where ever that may be, in search
of three sisters who have no intention of having an audience with me to talk
about a few of the issues brought up in the past. The past doesn't matter. What
matters is the future and finishing this quest whether they like it or not.
They've beaten me twice before and there are already signs that they know I'm
coming again. I expect they will be changing their tactics. This entire journey
is so that I can change mine.
And we travel on.

Allies and Enemies

"But for me I will abide here, setting within the fold of Olympus, where I will gladden my heart with gazing; but go ye forth that ye come among the Trojans and the Achaians and succoure these or those, howsoever each of you have in mind." (Zeus - The Iliad, Book XX-369)

All of the Gods from any land, and no land, have both a love and envy of the mortal soul. The world of men is the great game. For men, unlike any other are driven to succeed. Driven by passion and rage, by the unknown, but more importantly by themselves.

For their love, a price was paid. For in loving mortals the Gods adopted and mimicked many of mankind's attributes. Not all of which were kind. Envy, jealousy, obsessive love, and rage. In all of their might and magic the Gods themselves would turn on and to each other, day in and day out, in a never ending battle over what was best for the world below but also in smaller, more personal, matters.

In the past men were judged by their deeds. The greater the deed the greater the blessing bestowed upon them. Some where even able to obtain the mortal equivalent of immortality in that their names would forever be remembered, their deeds never forgotten. But no more so than the unforgotten deeds of the Gods who lead them to glory.

Some of the Gods and Goddesses had their favorites among mortals and they readily acted against each other in their efforts to ensure a good fate for those they watched so closely and loved. A blessing from one would bring a curse from the other. And it was the mortals who were forced to stand alone in the dust. Blinded by the love and hate of the Gods as they dueled over what would be. Even mighty Zeus would act in secret to keep white armed Hera ignorant to his own deeds. Not that he had fear of the immortal goddess but simply for the fact that he often grew weary of being forced to listen to her constant complaints. Another attribute unbecoming of a Goddess but practiced relentlessly none the less.

The Gods also adopted the plight of favoritism and vanity. They held great contests amongst themselves over things such as physical beauty, musical talent, and even who among them could drink the most wine. That honeyed potion nectar of Dionysus that could gift both wisdom and madness to God and mortal alike. A test that the God of Wine enjoyed seeing played out in any case.

Even ego plagued the Gods. They failed to fully yield to the symbiotic nature of their relationship with mortals. Their wars with each other were on such an epic scale that all things mortal seemed insignificant at times. The gods granted many things to the world of men and in return for those gifts mankind loved, honored, and worshipped them. In doing so it was man who opened the gateways between the divine realms and the mortal world. The more worshipers a God or Goddess had the more influence they had in the mortal realm. And without mankind as a grounding rod their influences would often go unnoticed or fail to manifest at all. To make things worse, the loss of worshipers and the flow of love from the mortal realm struck the old gods like a plague. They grew weaker in influence and power, less focused on a world less focused on them, and some of them would loose all musing to aid mankind at all. For mankind was no longer aiding them. The strings were cut. The pieces on the board no longer moved at the gentle nudges of the Gods. Now, it took something more.

It was only the God of War who still had a hold on the heart of man. For it is in mankind's nature to destroy. And all throughout time wherever and for whatever mankind was led into battle they did so under the watchful eye of the God of war. Though even the new generations of pagans have often denied the nature of this deity, he cared not. His nature was undeniable and seen the world over. Beyond all text, teaching, or philosophy, the gift and art of war has forever been the most honored among men. And this again was a trait reflected above.

"So urged the blessed gods both host to battle, then themselves burst into fierce war" (370)

So it is with the Gods, both kind and cruel, wise and foolish in the designs and plots against and for man and each other. Not so unlike the mortals they move to govern to some still unforeseen end. Unforeseen because like mortals they have little control over the fate of the free willed. And thus, so willed, that there have been times when even a mere mortal has dared to defy a God…and the God was defeated.

A blessing from one, a curse from another. But curses break. Deeds are forever. It was a man, not a God, that did the deed. And the man was favored many times over thereby.

The Blade of Betrayel

"So loud the roar rose of that battle of gods. For against King Poseidon stood Phoebus Apollo with his wigged arrows, and against Enyalios stood Athena, bright eyed goddess, and against Hera she of the golden shafts and echoing chase, even after Artemis, sister of the far darter; and against Leto the strong Helper Hermes, and against Hephaestus the great deep-eddying River whom gods call Xanthos and men Skamandros.

Thus gods with gods were matched…"  (The Iliad Book XX-370)

And the roar fell to the mortal realm and was driven into the earth bringing forth a hard winter to foreign lands. Where the gods in the battle did not dwell and in a time when only their names remained. Their once glorious temples crumbled to their former stone and dust. For the roar had no boundary of time or place but echoed throughout all time and places, as unbound as the universe itself who allows only the Gods to view it as under some semblance of control. Until the roar itself was perceived and the earth from its impact collected and forged into a great blade by the hand of Nature herself.

The blade did not hold to the physical world but phased in and out of all realities. Wherever it touched the fabric of existence came a great and ragged tear. And through them could a God be cast into the mortal world, becoming nearly mortal themselves with no memory of their former glory or strength or deed or might. But now that which they so longingly desired, hated, and treasured.

Now it came to be that earth was the plane of the new battles. For it was here where the gods cast their love and here where they waged their wars. It was here where old gods walked with mortal feet among the very race that the themselves had long so manipulated and envied, blessed and favored.

It was held as sport at first. To cast an immortal through a rip, sending them to the mortal plane to which there was few choices to return, none of which were favored above any other.

Great beast were also wrestled with and tossed through the random holes. Only to fall to earth and be worshipped by men as once the gods themselves were. Those great beasts of the other worlds, pets of the divine, were now held and regarded with great favor and gifted with many attributes by the minds and hearts of men.

The great game continued under the hands of the Fates but was now much more complex and challenging. The world become more complex, confusing, and misguided as these new factors came into play beyond the influence of the mortal bound gods.

Gleaned interpretations of the etheric blade, that great masterless weapon wielded only by the winds of Chance, would become the cutting edge to forge great spiritual paths through the moral wilderness that mankind would soon wonder into. Paths forged by a blade that represented only the betrayal of one god to another.

As above, so below. And the blade would bring the pain of betrayal to mankind and cut them more deeply than any steal and was unbiased in word, worth, or deed. A cut from this blade would become the greatest of all pains for mortal and immortal alike and was of such a nature that some perceived it to be the only way to truly kill a God.

Such was the nature of the blade wielded that fell many people from their own hearts and beliefs. Leaving them guideless and calling out to cold grey skies, to the ears of new gods. The sky remained cold, dark, and silent while mankind has waited for thousands of years to hear an answer. Meanwhile, the old gods fell and re-ascended to their thrones with forgotten rights and rituals, forgotten peoples and influences in the world.

The blade forced mankind to betray all that was and all that would have been. The future split like the limbs of a tree. Path upon path came into being leading to cliff hangs from which countless souls would fall, disillusioned by their false forks, false beliefs, and false whims. Now grounded into silent tombs beyond all hope, beyond all root of being where there names and deeds were not recorded. Where no honors were bestowed to them. Where nothing but forgetting would stand in testament to the fact that they had ever lived at all. 

Man has been happy with that end. It's all they strive for. But the re-ascended had a different destiny in mind for those yet to be cut and felled. And it is only to those that comes the newest of blessings and favor of the Gods that once so influenced and held these mortals to their breasts with such love and hate.

Another game was to begin, another tale written in a new Age. But old habits die hard, even in the realm of the Gods. And the Blade of Betrayal was still out there beyond all reach.

The Thread of Fate

"…there she met Sleep, the brother of Death, and clasped her hand in his, and spoke and called him by name: "Sleep, lord of all gods and all men, if ever thou didst hear my word, obey me again even now, and I will be grateful to thee always." (Hera, The Iliad Book XIV - 257)

And Sleep answered the call of the goddess and silence and rest befell the lands of Denia after great trials. A new fire had been kindled and a new tale set to be told. But first to be written would be the prelude and the events to transpire before the telling. Thus the would be king sat down to pen the impossible new tale and recite and ancient one.

But the Goddess Hera was not acting in kindness with her proposed spell of restful silence. She had sided against the idea of the turmoil such a thing as the Covenant could yield in the world of men for men as the stood in the new Age were easy to manipulate and control. They lacked the spirit of the people who once lived who would defy her with swords in hand. Those mortals who stood in contrary to what her heart desired and thwarted so many of her intricate plans with their acts of defiance in service of other gods and goddesses along with their own whims and wishes.

No, if Hera had her way such pagans would never rise again in spite of the numbers who would come to serve her. She was no longer looking for servitude. Such deeds were deemed worthy of rewards. It was much easier in this Age to have worshipers she never had to answer because they no longer remembered the proper rites for invoking divine aid. This people who called themselves pagan in this new time were far too easy to manipulate and keep in her small scope of what should be. Very few of them would ever develop the will to act against her.

It was her will to stop the pebble from hitting the pond. She placed many in the way yet the pebble hit none the less and in all of her immortal wisdom she could not discover why.

The missing thread that Athena had taken from the loom chamber when the Fates were distracted was woven at the request of Hera as an alternate future. One in which she would be regarded as the one Goddess of the pagan people. She had almost achieved her plot when the neo-pagans of the new Age began to write new rituals in which the names of the ancient Gods were crossed or they were left completely nameless with no true honors bestowed upon them. And she was all to happy to take the meek offerings and prayers as her own.

Then came the message that doing so was disrespectful to all of the deities invoked and could bring wrath down on the mortals who sent out such blasphemous prayers and wishes. In turn, the pagan population remain under the curses from the disrespected gods and many of them were broken in mind, body, heart, and soul due to simple ignorance. In all of the ego and pride mankind had forgotten much. They had become weak, decedent, and a sad shell of their former might. No warrior class was allowed to establish themselves in the new pagan world and therefore no one ever gained the will to defy the manipulative gods, by their own right or by way of aid from other deities who shared their biasness.

When the tale was written the thread was broken. The Chain of Olympus held true, the Fate's had been turned, the Erinyes defeated time and time again without the aid of the bound magic of the Blood Rage, and the counsel of Athena was all but fulfilled.

But Hera had one last opportunity, one last device, that could once again sway the future to her favor…

The Weight of a God

"And gifts I will give to thee, even a fair throne, imperishable for ever, a golden throne, that Hephaistos the Lame, mine own child, shall fashion skillfully." (Hera, The Iliad Book XIV - 257)

In spite of their moves seemingly to the contrary the Fates had sided with the new pagan king, along with many of the other gods and goddesses who longed to see the spirit of which they themselves had birthed into the hearts of mortals rekindled in all of it's former glory.

Soft Athena, who had favored this young witch in the past, still held her favor over him and sent unto him many muses to aid him in his quest. And an eventful quest it was. A curse from one, a blessing from another. This one mortal defied all the odds time and time again in many great tales that still have yet to be written for the eyes of the common man.

Yet, regardless of his many blessings and the deeds done to ward off the many curses, the pagan king was still a mortal and Hera was well aware of this. She sent him nightmares to test his courage. She enlisted the aid of creatures that mortal eyes had not beheld in many centuries, those mythological beasts who by their own natures have little care for man. Only to have her greatest beast turn away from his task. The message he was sent to deliver remained on his own lips. But the message that the king had gained the attention of the less favorable was all too clear.

All of her careful planning, all of her curses and attempts to fell this one moral had failed her. Her heart could not contain her anger but she composed herself and dressed in great glory to appear and plea with the king directly with promises and blessings if he would only abandon his life to her will and fall into the silent peace he so longed for she would gift him with all that mortal ego would allow for.

"Hearken unto me great king of the pagan people and listen well. The task you have been set on is  folly. No mortal on the earth nor god in the heavens will allow these events to unfold in the manner of which you seek. Stop this madness less you bring ruin upon yourself and all that you have accomplished in your time. Your task is done. Lay down in this and I will grant you what you desire most in peaceful dreams and due rewards. I will gift to you a silent throne where no man will ever be able to challenge thee. A throne of gold and jewels the will glitter in the morning sun and shine on your children and their children. All this and a bride unlike any other. Wise and driven, passionate and honorable in life and in deeds of her own. You and all that is to be yours will remain in peace for the rest of your days."

"You speak to a man full of pain as if speaking to a boy full of dreams Mother of the Gods. In all that has unfolded in my life you, in all of your wisdom, have not learned the lessons I have learned. Those of your own nature. I bend no knee to the Gods."

"And of softest Athena you say you have no love? You who have taken on her blessings and guidance throughout your life do not see yourself bending to the will of the immortals? Such ego and pride for such a frail form, mighty king. And how well do you think the mortal heart that beats so passionately in your breast, like a falcon in flight at the site of me, will hold up with the weight of a god on your shoulders?

I seek no more favor than that of Athena, less even. I do not seek any sacrifice other than your own struggle in a world that does not see it. And in turn, I offer you a throne and the title alone to bear. Is this not a just reward for how you have served?"

"Wise mother, forgive me my due. Keep your throne of gold and jewels and the title to match it. I wouldn't burden you with such things because they no longer have much place in this world aside from whim and fancy to make the tales we tell more colorful. Besides, gold never did suit my tastes. Your great throne and dream can remain yours. I'll make my own."

"So be it, king of the pagans. And when you fail and your death bed is cold, and your tale a hollow failure in the eyes of man and God alike, I will prove my compassion for even the most defiant of the mortal world and grant you the favor of sending you off swiftly to Hades where you will not be remembered and your tale will be lost as if it never happened. Your life will be wasted on this and your soul bound by the same chain that binds your greatest power.

So tell me, which gods shall I inform upon your demise?"

"Look to your own…Queen of the forgotten."

Denia - Tales 2010

Angel Snowden - The Heraian

The Urn of Eulogeo

“The Urn of Eulogeo” is the counter to the Urn of Shades. Upon the Alter of Hera the Urns are always placed  “black on left, white on right” symbolic of  the balance and neutrality of personal energies. The mirror of the Urn of Shades, The Urn of Eulogeo (Greek for “blessing”) is filled with the ashes of blessings recounted on parchment, prayers to Hera, as well as the ash from alter incense and white sage. Positive energies are channeled into the Urn of Eulogeo by holding the Urn with both hand and drawing it closer to the heart. This symbolic gesture represents the hearts celebration of the many blessings, gifts, and powers granted seemingly out of no where.

A physical manifestation of “count your blessings” has gone one step further. A measure of each power and blessing is gifted back through the use of the Urn and is stored there until it may be needed. By keeping the Urn in place on the Alter it is a gesture of telling the Goddess “hold onto this for me until later” much like one may give their mother money to save for them so that they don’t spend it on useless things. It’s about being both grateful and responsible with your gifts and abilities as well as establishing a more personal relationship with the Goddess who granted them in the first place.

Should this Urn ever be filled the Urn must be taken someplace high and the ashes within scattered on the wind. The gesture is meant to represent the gifting back of what was given and the sacrificing of ones own blessings to the rest of the world.

By Angel Snowden

The Urn of Shades

“The Urn of Shades” is one big bottle of bad. The magic behind the Urn is designed to absorb and contain personal demons and stresses by inscripting key words, names, or symbols in small sun bleached bones and then placing the bones within the Urn. Once the bone is inside the Urn the energy attributed to it is channeled into to the Urn before the stopper is place back on it trapping the demon and energy inside.

Within the process of working with the Urn of Shades there are several steps that are key to the practice. The first is the collecting of the bones. Which often means a long walk full of contemplation, reflection, and working through the riddles and emotional impact.

The second is the inscription on the bone, the mark that give the demon a name and physical form. A kind of sympathetic magic that manifests the demon into something corporeal - from thought and emotion to a physical object.

The placement of the bone into the Urn is a transgressive phase, symbolic of not only “letting go” but the physical action of doing so. The act itself being the key.

The channeling of the energy associated with the bone is done by placing the right hand over the mouth of the Urn and forcing the negativity through the mouth, and forcing the energy to maelstrom within the container in a counterclockwise flow the draws the energy downward to the bottom of the Urn like a whirlpool.

The stopper on the Urn of Shades is white. A symbol of purity and light always above the demons and challenges of life. By placing the stopper after the working it is symbolic of overcoming the negativity and locking it away, out of the body and soul, along with all of the spiritual toxins that come with it.

If the Urn of Shades should ever be filled the process of “emptying the bottle of bad” includes the pouring out and burning of the bones. Once burned the ashes are then sprinkled with white sage and buried.

By Angel Snowden