Showing posts with label shielded-warrior. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shielded-warrior. Show all posts
The Test
In a few short hours I'll be setting out on the longest journey of the season and the first of the final two. I'll be traveling over 50 miles filming and capturing images along the way for "The Battle With the Furies" chapter of my story. Beyond the journey itself - I'll be doing it all without any sleep.
I always get restless when I get close to the end of my ongoing quest. A lingering sense of urgency, anxiety, nervousness. I've been on enough adventures to know what I am about to go through - to know that much of it is going to hurt.
That's part of the deal.
My story is one of suffering and sacrifice. The old kind. Something most modern pagans try their best to run away or hide from. None of them having the slightest clue what it takes to "honor the gods" they claim to follow and serve. Easy to talk of a path, not so easy to walk one.
As before, once again Zeus interfered with the set task. Sending thunderstorms across the area, delaying the journey for three days. But the clouds have parted and soon the next steps of the journey will be taken.
I'll be traveling far to the east, further than I have ever ventured before, into a forest steeped in history and urban legend as I wrote of in the previous entry. I'll set out hours before sunrise in order to make it to my destination with enough daylight left to do what is to be done. The days are getting shorter, the nights colder and the area I am traveling into is not the type of place one wants to have to pass through after dark.
A few short hours away from sacrificing more of my body and soul - glorious.
For now, a hot shower and a hot coffee. Then it will be time to check my gear and prepare to take on a beast of a challenge, worthy of the Furies themselves.
Lightning in a Bottle - Thunder Wine
I woke up before down this morning to flashes of lightning and claps of thunder and I welcomed it. I've been in and out, playing in the storm, soaking up the rain all morning.
Completing the challenges on the Path of Gaia I returned home to check in on another challenge I had committed to some time back. The challenge was to fill a crystal bowel with less than a cup of rain water from every thunderstorm of the season until the Greek vase I was storing it in was full. The rule was that there had to be both thunder and lightning present during the gathering of the water. Reason being, lightning alters the chemical composition of rain water. Without lightning there literally would not be any life on the planet. It took a dozen thunderstorms, filling the crystal bowel one raindrop at a time, in order to fill the vase.
Once I had collected the storm water the trick was to turn the water into wine. And so I set about brewing, mixing, filtering, fermenting, and creating a perfectly balanced sweet amber red wine from the storm water. Not red in the traditional sense. This wine happens to be made primarily of honey. The red tint comes from the pomegranate and herbs I used during the fermentation process. The result has come to be a rather potent potion and a measure of that exact potion can be seen here:
This small measure taken from the main stock is enjoyed (no more and an ounce at a time) on days like today when there is a thunderstorm present. Some is offered up as an offering to Hera upon the altar, while the rest is to be sealed in a very special, hand etched lightning bolt wine bottle. Once corked the cork will be sealed with a special red wax embedded with a fulgurite crystal (a petrified lightning bolt).
This wine has a sweet start with a spicy finish that lingers. it is the perfect embodiment of the elements from which it was created. It also happens to be a one of a kind wine. This wine cannot be reproduced. This one batch is all there is and all there will ever be.
Completing the challenges on the Path of Gaia I returned home to check in on another challenge I had committed to some time back. The challenge was to fill a crystal bowel with less than a cup of rain water from every thunderstorm of the season until the Greek vase I was storing it in was full. The rule was that there had to be both thunder and lightning present during the gathering of the water. Reason being, lightning alters the chemical composition of rain water. Without lightning there literally would not be any life on the planet. It took a dozen thunderstorms, filling the crystal bowel one raindrop at a time, in order to fill the vase.
Once I had collected the storm water the trick was to turn the water into wine. And so I set about brewing, mixing, filtering, fermenting, and creating a perfectly balanced sweet amber red wine from the storm water. Not red in the traditional sense. This wine happens to be made primarily of honey. The red tint comes from the pomegranate and herbs I used during the fermentation process. The result has come to be a rather potent potion and a measure of that exact potion can be seen here:
This small measure taken from the main stock is enjoyed (no more and an ounce at a time) on days like today when there is a thunderstorm present. Some is offered up as an offering to Hera upon the altar, while the rest is to be sealed in a very special, hand etched lightning bolt wine bottle. Once corked the cork will be sealed with a special red wax embedded with a fulgurite crystal (a petrified lightning bolt).
This wine has a sweet start with a spicy finish that lingers. it is the perfect embodiment of the elements from which it was created. It also happens to be a one of a kind wine. This wine cannot be reproduced. This one batch is all there is and all there will ever be.
Crafting unique items such as this has become an important part of the path with the Goddess Hera. Historically the ancient gods tend to be hard to please and even harder to remain in the favor of. This list of things I have done in Hera's name has grown exceedingly long. I've even developed a habit of sleeping before the altar more times than not. A practice that seems to be linked to the lucid dreams I've been having and also a deep sense of reserved calm.
A calm before the storm. Very soon I will be taking on the challenge of all challenges on this path thus far. I have put everything I have ever accomplished, created, loved and suffered for on the line with this challenge. The ancient bond on Hera still remains in effect, Zeus still holds some measure of control over her. Golden chains that I intend to break. Whatever the cost.
The 22 Votives of Hera
(NOTE: The 22 Chapter adventure chronicling the placement of the 22 Hera Votives in both picture and videos can be viewed HERE)

Hidden within the proverbial pages of The Journeybook Adventures is a somewhat hidden secret that has only been mentioned in one of the chapters thus far.
Among the items taken on each adventure is a single hand carved stone votive (22 votives in all). With each adventure one votive is left behind, hidden somewhere in the landscape at the far edge of the journey.

Each of the stone votives are unique and each depicts the Goddess Hera, one or more of her personal icons, and (always) her name.
This semi-secret mission hidden within each chapter of the ongoing adventure makes each of the stories into an untold evolutionary ritual that includes multifaceted levels of sacrifice and hardship ending with this simple tribute to a very specific Goddess. The ongoing ritual is a proving of worth and devotion for yet another hidden purpose.
Included with the 22 votives of each chapter and trial are many other creations and stories. Such as the trial of the 7 mile altar stone, the rebuilding of the altar room, the procession to the river for a ritualized bathing of the Altar Statue, the writings, videos, and other tributes, the scholarly studies, meditations, and more. All smaller pieces of a much larger story that now spans years.
It is a hard path of many body bending, soul torchering challenges that breaks many boundaries and preconceived limits. It is the art of sacrifice and tribute, the path of devotion with many pains, the practice of going beyond all reason and doubt.

22 stone votives, 22 chapters in story of passing the tests and placing them.
When the 22 trails, adventures, and tributes are completed they hidden stones will form a pattern over the map of the land that extends over 30 miles in every direction with the altar room and my home at the center of it all. Here, where the largest of all stone votives to Hera within this story is held - the 7 mile altar stone itself.
The Journeybook has been a wonderful experience for me and I hope that it has come to be the enjoyment of the many who subscribe and watch the story unfold. This is simply a glimpse of the story within the story. The somewhat hidden, the somewhat mysterious, the absolutely pagan.
Hidden within the proverbial pages of The Journeybook Adventures is a somewhat hidden secret that has only been mentioned in one of the chapters thus far.
Among the items taken on each adventure is a single hand carved stone votive (22 votives in all). With each adventure one votive is left behind, hidden somewhere in the landscape at the far edge of the journey.
Each of the stone votives are unique and each depicts the Goddess Hera, one or more of her personal icons, and (always) her name.
This semi-secret mission hidden within each chapter of the ongoing adventure makes each of the stories into an untold evolutionary ritual that includes multifaceted levels of sacrifice and hardship ending with this simple tribute to a very specific Goddess. The ongoing ritual is a proving of worth and devotion for yet another hidden purpose.
Included with the 22 votives of each chapter and trial are many other creations and stories. Such as the trial of the 7 mile altar stone, the rebuilding of the altar room, the procession to the river for a ritualized bathing of the Altar Statue, the writings, videos, and other tributes, the scholarly studies, meditations, and more. All smaller pieces of a much larger story that now spans years.
It is a hard path of many body bending, soul torchering challenges that breaks many boundaries and preconceived limits. It is the art of sacrifice and tribute, the path of devotion with many pains, the practice of going beyond all reason and doubt.
22 stone votives, 22 chapters in story of passing the tests and placing them.
When the 22 trails, adventures, and tributes are completed they hidden stones will form a pattern over the map of the land that extends over 30 miles in every direction with the altar room and my home at the center of it all. Here, where the largest of all stone votives to Hera within this story is held - the 7 mile altar stone itself.
The Journeybook has been a wonderful experience for me and I hope that it has come to be the enjoyment of the many who subscribe and watch the story unfold. This is simply a glimpse of the story within the story. The somewhat hidden, the somewhat mysterious, the absolutely pagan.
The Heraian - Heaven and Earth Masters Edition
The
following video has been in the works for three weeks. The
creation of this video involved 52 different clips, 50 separate
transitions, 7 video length special effects, 6 spectrum filters (each
taking at least 3 hours each for processing) and 12 minutes and 49
seconds of digitally enhanced mixed music that plays out in two chapters
"heaven" and "earth".
The
final video file turned out to be so complex that it took over 2 1/2
hours just to upload it to YouTube so that it could be shared in this
High Definition CinemaScope format.
A
major part of this video was filmed at a Greek temple garden during the
"Master of the Arts" chapter of The Journeybook Series. I took a secret
side run during the filming to get the clips to make this very video
which I had already been planning for weeks prior. The temple gardens
you will see in this video have become an important place for me to
visit from time to time.
I
had two goals in mind with this video. The first was to tell an
unbelievable story in such a way that the story changes from viewer to
viewer. Anyone who watches this video from start to finish is going to
get a different message, a different story out of it.
The
second goal is to offer a beautiful example of what one might be able
to create and experience when they have devotion and focus within their
spiritual path. In order to experience this kind of thing in full
measure one must be able to relate to the idea of being devoted to
something beyond reason. To not only have an interest but to fall in
love with it to the point where everything beyond it seems pointless.
And above all else, you have to be able to respect the individuality of the Gods as singular, unique entities not much different than your fellow man.
It
is from this perspective that such things are created, focused, and
empowered. It is from this perspective that we might see old gods
walking on new streets.
I
consider this video no different than any of the hundreds of votives
that decorate my altar room or the hundreds of pages worth of tales
involving me and Hera. The journey, the time, the effort, the stress and
frustration, the lessons in patience, that it took to create this
particular piece were all part of the tribute to her.
And with that, it is my honor to share with the world this latest tribute to Hera, the tale, and the path.
The Dark Mysteries and Vengeance
I've written before of a fragment that tells that the greatest gift that Hera might bestow upon a mortal is in allowing them to die in their sleep. Several tales have been written down from the ancient temples chronicling this very event - wherein those who are offered this gift fall asleep within Hera's temple never to wake.
Others tales, right up into present situations, have attributed deaths to Hera as well, but not in-so-much as a gift but as an act of vengeance in response to one offense or another. Of which, I can present what I consider to be a pain filled quote from the accuser while withholding the name of the person who sent it out of respect for the one recently taken, who said to me:
"A curse on you and your Hera for what YOU have obviously done. I would have never believed you would have gone so far to invoke pain."
This, as mentioned, I attribute to grief as it relates to me personally and chalk it up to that grief seeking someone to blame. Yet, even in the freshness of this projected grief I cannot say without certainty that Hera was not involved.
Seemingly unrelated events happened to unfold and fall into certain places that offer the accuser some logical ground to stand on. An offense was made by one party and answered by myself. To which I openly admit prophesying loss and pain for said offense. Within the same time frame that these events unfolded I did visit the river yesterday and I did bring back offerings to the Altar of Hera. 7 spiked seed pods and three roots from a potentially deadly plant that I had dedicated to Hera months ago both in practice and shared forms.
Not long after my prophesy came to light and these deadly gifts were presented to Hera, death did come within the family of the offending party. The fact that it all took place on the same day offers them their credibility of blame.
As shocking as that might be on its own it is not over. It will last for the entire phase of the full moon. More pain, suffering, and loss will come and both I and Hera will be blamed. In this, in spite of being accuse of weaving such curses, I feel nothing but sadness for them. My offerings to Hera on this day had no conscious ill intent behind them (for my own part) and as far as prophesying the loss and pain before it happened - I was simply relaying a message that had been clanging around in my head. One that I wrestled with for hours, gaining no peace of mind or emotion until after the message was delivered.
My sadness now comes to this unrest where I am unable to sleep as this very story keeps playing out in my head and keeps Hypnos far away from me.
Here at 3am I am being forced to consider the depth of my own path and practices of which are my own and of only minute interest to others as far as I am aware, in spite of how often I continue to share them. My efforts and practices are derived primarily from ancient texts which I do my best to follow to the letter in both thought and practice. Some of which has tested me with great pain and visions of what I thought might be my limit - all in the interest of devotion and gaining the favors of this one specific Goddess who has long been noted for her talents with vengeance and some of the most sadistic curses ever recorded in human history.
Of course, I am well aware and read in on what Hera might bestow on those she falls in love with as well as upon those she takes a disliking to. The contrast of which is night and day, good and down right evil.
Before this day I believed the path to be something of an adventure. From the moment I received the feather that cast me into it all, throughout all I have learned and achieved since. In the years that this path with Hera has been playing out many things have taken place that defy logical explanation and even crossed the boundaries of my healthy and well sited ego. I thought that by holding to the ancient ways rather than some neo-pagan modern spin was an honorable approach that could do no more or less than any other. Even within the trails the thought of being in over my head was only a fleeting thought until I achieved what was intended and gained the next blessing there-by. Before this day my path and relationship with Hera has never been attributed to someone's death.
When I received the above message I had no idea what the person was referring to. I didn't respond before looking around to find out what (if anything) had happened and I have not responded since I found out that a death had occurred. It caught me completely off-guard and has since put me here trying to get it all out of my head.
I visited the altar room after the discovery and upon entering was washed in a strong feeling of apprehension. I felt a pang of fear entering into my own altar room - a warning. I, in deep and stark contrast to my own sense of strength and ability, with all of my confidence and ego, felt extremely small in the anger that is currently filling that room. Anger not directed at me in the least. It is tinted with something protective but at the same time it is so intense and overwhelming that I could do nothing but lower my head and step back out of the room, closing the door behind me.
I set here now gazing through the glass with a single question echoing over and over again in my head and heart...
"What have you done?"
Into the Wild
The impact of the Panhellenic mind set and Homeric reconstructions of the Iliad has nearly completely crystallized the modern view of Hera into a figure the ancients never really considered. Her life was far different from that of the modern interpretation which is often based in Homeric poem rather than actual thought and practice.
The Panhellenic social mind set was based in subordination that needed a general metaphoric patriarchy which a retheologized Olympic family could offer. In doing so, the Panhellenic myths were the first step in setting Zeus upon his throne and, in turn, the male as the head of household.
Before Hera was retheologized near Argeia to better fit into her new mythic position we can look to the temples in both Samos and the Delian Heraion where admittedly very little of the mythological lore still exists, however many of the votive offerings to the temples do. Of which are figures of wild animals including: sphinxes, lions, griffins, birds and others that stand in contrast to something befitting the newly cased Olympian Queen and lends more to her original role as a nature goddess and mistress of wild animals as she was in the Mycenaean past.
Athena would later be gifted another of Hera’s original roles as the goddess of the shield and citadel. Most likely a new Athenian sphere of influence due to her Iliadic functioning as Hera’s agent and Hera’s battle Goddess in Argolic myth that transferred over into the Panhellenic myths. Since Athena was the daughter of Zeus the new position subordinated the sphere of influence over war to her father, increasing his own influence and supporting the masculine drive of mortal society.
However the reconstructions may have developed the Mycenaean view of Hera still persisted in many areas and held her as the goddess of untamed animal life, war, and the house, as well as a Spring Goddess of general fertility still worshiped at her tree and bathing in the river, who had the power of life and death over “heroes” - those who won fame from Hera.
Still, as time went on and people began to sway to the new theology, Hera began to lose her power bit by bit. The time when this really began to take hold in Greek consciousness is still shrouded in mystery. Slowly Hera’s connection with the natural world, her sovereignty over life, her influence in war, and her association with tree and river cults began to diminish as she was forced into the suppressive role as a goddess of domestication, subservient to her would be husband. A mortal theme that would last for thousands of years in western culture and is sadly still purported by the majority of writings regarding Hera today.
All of the evidence suggest that Hera was once the dominant Goddess of the pre-Olympian age. Her Hekatombaia that was celebrated in the Archaic Heraion was a New Year’s festival that presented her as the Goddess of Spring and new life, mistress of wild animals, and tamer of the untamed come winter and death; offering context to her non-Homeric description: teleia - “fulfiller”. There is no real evidence beyond the Iliad that suggest Hera as the subservient wife of Zeus or that the two figures had any connection what so ever within the mortal social sphere or in worship.
The sin of the Homeric patriarchy is that it has empowered one sex at the expense of the other. In order for the male to take the role of dominance all of the feminine influences had to be suppressed. Which, above all others, included Hera because she was the dominate feminine with an unprecedented power over her male counterpart in the Pre-Panhellenic world.
Hera was Queen long before Zeus was King. That fact could not be allowed to hold if men were to take full control over hearth and home. It’s a theme that has lasted to the modern age. Even the theology of Christianity has dominant male themes and “tames” the power of women.
Yet, in spite of the mortal habit of reflecting their social whims upon the Gods as a way of justifying their animalistic behavior, Hera remains untamed. She did not yield to servitude or suppression even in the Iliadic myths or in the light of her most often portrayed personification.
In the eyes of mortals Hera may not be commonly viewed as the seasonal mistress of wild animals, the bringer of new life, a goddess of the shield (war) and citadel, or the protector of the home. But the truth will forever outshine their confabulations and misrepresentations that serve only their petty whims. Whims that are easily cast aside once one travels a little deeper into the murk.
Feast of Dreams
“Philotheros [lover of the wild], I desire to feast, not in the city, but at Hera’s shrine, enjoying gusts of the west wind. A linen pallet on the ground beneath my body is enough for me—a bed close by a native tree (promalos), and a willow (lugos), ancient wreathing (stephos) of the Carians. Let wine be brought and the Muses’ charming lyre, that, drinking to our hearts content, we may sing of glorious Hera, mistress of our isle.” (Nikainetos quoted by Athenaeus 15.637b-c Kaibel 1890)
Nikainetos was a poet who lived in Samos in the 3rd century B.C., around 290 B.C. and is often included as one an Abderite, a student of a pre-Socratic school of thought that was founded between 440-430 B.C. The fragment above helps to illuminate a more fragrant view of the sociology surrounding the Temple of Hera and how is was likely a common practice to lounge about the Temple feasting in merriment until lulled off to sleep on a convenient pallet, bed, or couch there on the grounds, to dream dreams and have divine visions of the Mother Goddess while resting there.
One can’t imagine that the noise, smells, and hustle and bustle of city life offered much by way of peace and divine dreaming. Before all Hera was a nature Goddess with rituals founded for river gods and votives proper for a deity of both protection and fertility, the latter extending to crops and the renewal of life from death as a Goddess of Spring. She was also held as a mistress of wild animals that included griffins, oxen, horses, lions, and several birds. And in as many as twenty separate cult houses, throughout time, there is solid evidence that Hera was the Goddess of hearth and home. We may also allude to Hera’s Rite of Spring and the conclusion of the cycle in the autumn with The Harvest of Hera; a seasonal pattern that illustrates the notion that the giver of life (The Earth Goddess) also takes life away. The same notion can be seen in the mythos of “hero”, (Hero/Hera – Those glorified through Hera) who almost always died a young death.
Hera was the most influential and honored at one point in time while Zeus, who many attempt to place above her, can be viewed as a paranoid degenerate whose life and actions only served to back that point of view. His mortal gifted esteem and position was granted primarily by the sexist feminine suppression and social upheaval of Homeric times. Where Zeus was all force and chaos Hera was nurture and serenity; attributes typical of a mother goddess. And so, it is to the Temple of Hera where one ventures to find peace and simplified comforts of life.
It does not take a stretch of the imagination to see a clear vision of what a common Temple visit would have been like. A visit based in relaxation and merriment honoring Hera until one is mused to curl up on a soft pallet and be lulled into dreamful sleep in the arms of the Goddess herself with a belly full of food and drink that only serves to allow Sleep to visit more easily and dreams to become much more vivid.
How many visions came to the minds of mortals in such a manner? How many hidden, subtle blessings to the minds of men; to muse and encourage a much more rustic existence than anything we may experience in the modern world, still with all of its grit and grime. It’s so easy to slip between silken threads to touch the divine, so easy to find the sense of peace to the depths of the soul…and so easy to deny it all in the here and now. Perhaps we have forgotten what is important.
So, we come to the Temple of Hera to feast, sleep, and dream on a common day with common foods. What we might find there are things such as: arugulas, cucumbers, artichokes, cress, fennel, radishes, squash, grapes, olives, figs, pears, plums, apples, pomegranates, peas, lentils, sardines, an array of sea foods, goat, goose, boar, chicken, deer, rabbit, lamb, a variety of breads, and the fragrant bergamot oranges that, today, the essence of which is commonly used in the making of Earl Grey tea. All such foods may be seasons with things such as pepper, dill, salt, thyme, saffron, coriander, mint, and oregano.
Bread was a staple in ancient times with the inclusion of a small amount of vegetables, olives, and wine incorporated into everyday consumption. All of which was eaten by hand rather than with utensils. Raw fruits and olives were common as side dishes with any regular meal and often that meal was not a “fancy feast” but a feast of simplicity. It was perhaps an unrealized effort to take something really good and not screw it up.
All of this there in the cool shades of Hera’s Temple, a wide open space beyond highlighted by pools of golden sunlight. The soft caress of the west wind mixing and mingling the scents of the foods and the Temple together into a new form of ether unique only to that moment. A ghostly, fluid, lubricant that allowed one to slip from mortal form and into something more, however briefly. A simplistic feast set in the divine, an afternoon nap in the lap of a Goddess…a slow, steady, nurturing, and stress free life full of magic, mystery, and wonder known only to those who, with bellies full, dream.
How quickly mortals forget.
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