I am a Temple Keeper

Finally I am back online after spending more than a week mostly bedridden with a nasty head cold, and then – just as I recovered from the illness – another week dealing with the worst computer issues I’ve ever faced.  The power supply for my old desktop PC died, and my motherboard went kaput right along with it.  It was my only computer; I had no backup.  I had to start over from scratch and get a whole new system, buy a new copy of the OS, download all new software and drivers, troubleshoot everything with the hardware and software, etc.  Even with a friend’s help, it was almost a week before I was set up as I had been before the crash happened.

Fortunately, my hard drive was unaffected – though even if it had been, I’m pretty good about regular backups, so I wouldn’t have lost much.  I lost no data at all, and I was able to transfer all of my files over to my new hard drive.  And now I have a spiffy system with a much faster processor and more memory, which is a delight.

It occurred to me that this is the first time I’ve ever actually bought a computer just for myself and my own needs, even though I’ve been using computers regularly since the early 1980s when I started using my dad’s Commodore 64. My ex was a software engineer, so for 14 years while we were together, every time he upgraded – which was frequently, since he was a really hardcore gamer and always bought a top-of-the-line machine – I inherited his old computer. The last computer I inherited from him is dead and gone, and now I’ve acquired a nice one on my own. This feels very significant to me, in a way that affirms and strengthens my sense of self.

In fact, there is much of significance going on for me lately, especially in terms of my creativity and my inner life.

One of my friends recently remarked that, at long last, I am finally coming into my own.  I held her observation in my awareness for quite awhile, and felt the truth in it.  Now, in my early forties, I feel more like my authentic self than I ever have before, if that makes sense.  I feel mostly at ease in my own skin.  For the most part, I like what I see when I look in the mirror, even the crows’ feet around my eyes.  (After what I’ve been through in the past few years, I’ve earned every wrinkle several times over.)  My spiritual life is robust, my relationships with my gods and spirits feel more authentic, my writing has a sense of fullness and ripeness that it once lacked, and I find endless sources of inspiration all around me – even in the darkest corners and through the most trying of times.  And I feel a stronger sense of confidence about how I make my way in the world.

Back in the mid-1990s, when I was a fledgling Pagan who wanted to dress like a “real” goth/rivethead but didn’t have much confidence, I remember looking at some of my friends and thinking things like, “Wow.  I love her look.  She looks so incredibly pulled together.  I don’t think I could ever be that cool.  I’d love to wear something like that, but I doubt I could actually pull it off.  I don’t even know where to start!”

Then, later on when I discovered tribal, dark fusion, and gothic bellydance, I spent many hours studying dark fusion dancers on YouTube and blissfully absorbing every nuance about their performances – costuming, colours, choreography, lighting, music.  I developed crushes on dancers whose performances enchanted me, and put them on a pedestal.  They were glorious and magical – and far, far out of my league.  Nerdy ol’ me could never, ever hope to be as cool as one of those bellydancers.

Yet when I look back, I also remember that the 11-year-old version of me was in the gifted and talented program at school, and was also voted most artistic by sixth-grade classmates who liked the drawings I had done of horses and the Looney Tunes Road Runner.

Graduate students often suffer from something called “imposter syndrome” – feeling like they just don’t measure up, and fearing that they will be found lacking.  I sometimes struggle with a variation on that theme in my spiritual and artistic life.  I’ll call it spiritual imposter syndrome, otherwise known as “What, me?  A Temple Keeper?”  Despite my newfound confidence and strengthened sense of self, I still feel like I just do NOT know what I am doing, and that I’m just making a lot of it up as I go along, even when I get confirmatory omens and various other clear-as-can-be affirmations.  But even so, the responses I am getting from people around me these days are very encouraging, so I’m going to keep it up.  I’m getting fan letters, new Facebook friend requests from fascinating people, even small monetary donations through my Rethinking the Job Culture blog.  People I admire and respect are telling me they appreciate my writing style and my dark bohemian decorating aesthetic.  Even complete strangers are offering unsolicited compliments on my look, especially when I go out dressed in black velvet hats and scarves and wear lots of black stone jewelry. It’s an entirely new thing for me, a bookish nerd, to be appreciated in this way for my style.  I could definitely get used to this.

So here I am, years later, still no stranger to doubt and fear, yet feeling like I have somehow managed to stumble into the boots I was meant to wear all along.  And they fit perfectly, because they were designed just for me!  I’m certainly no celebrity, and I’m nowhere near performance shape, but I’ve been bellydancing for almost six years now, and my Shrine of Skaði devotional dance project is proceeding apace (even if it’s a glacial pace at times).  When I put together a costume and choreograph a dance piece to industrial or dark ambient music, I feel like I am doing one of the things I was always meant to do.  When I do devotional dark fusion bellydance, I feel that I am giving physical form to an amorphous vision that came to me long before I had any idea where all my yearnings would eventually lead.  I feel exactly the same way when I write, when I serve tea to my guests with reverence, and when I decorate the Hermitage in my favourite dark Bohemian style, among other things.  I am doing What I’m Supposed To Do.  It doesn’t even matter if anyone (including me) thinks it’s cool or not, because it’s just Right.

I am a Temple Keeper.  The Black Stone Hermitage is my home and the temple for which I am caretaker, humble though it may be.  Black Stone Arts is the name I’ve been given by my Serpent Muse to encompass all the creative and service work I must undertake to sustain the Hermitage.  This seems to be the role in which I can best serve the divine, and the role in which I will find my fullest expression of self as well.  In the future, as I understand it, it will also provide a vehicle through which I will serve my community.

In recent months – and especially after the shift to the Chinese New Year (2012 is a very auspicious year, the Year of the Black Dragon) – I have noticed that the people, skills, and material things I will need to support Black Stone Arts and the Hermitage are appearing in my life at an increased rate.  This is encouraging.

For example, silver jewelry pieces with black stones and serpents on them seem to be coming to me – often as unsolicited, unexpected gifts from friends.  I wear this sort of jewelry with pride, especially when I dance, because it embodies my commitment to my Work and strengthens my link to my gods, my spirits, and my Serpent Muse.  I rarely leave the Hermitage anymore without wearing my favourite onyx ring; if I do, I feel a sharp sensation that something important is missing.

Thora's black stone jewelry

This takes some getting used to for me, because I’ve never been a heavy jewelry wearer (which makes sense for a lifelong introvert who doesn’t enjoy drawing excessive attention to herself).  In the past, while certain understated pieces of jewelry I occasionally wore felt more meaningful than others, I often selected my adornments for more prosaic reasons – just wanting to enhance my look.  Now it’s reaching the point where I only want to wear jewelry that furthers or is connected to my Work, and I’m quickly losing interest in wearing jewelry that is “just” for display purposes.

The links among all my various endeavours seem to be strengthening, too.  They are all part of this fledgling entity called Black Stone Arts.

There is so much about what I do – and who I am – that goes against the grain of the culture in which I was raised, and will probably never meet with general acceptance.  It’s funny…for years, I greatly feared that if I were to actually put myself “out there” – if I were to write openly on this public blog about the deep interconnections among my passions for industrial and dark ambient music, my devotional dance project, my reverence for the Tea Spirit, my interest in serpent wisdom and devotion to the dark divine, my fascination with spiritual rock and moss gardening, my interest in gift economy and radical homemaking, my desire to live in a small hermit-friendly ecovillage, and my critique of wage labour and vision of alternatives to conventional employment – I would be mocked, dismissed, made to feel shameful, criticised for Doing It Wrong, or otherwise harassed.  This was a completely rational fear, I might add, since I had already experienced this sort of wholesale rejection and criticism from people I once called friends.  (They are no longer my friends, thank gods.)

Therefore, to reveal all of this felt like a giant emotional risk for which I was not prepared.  I will readily admit that “thickness of skin” has never been one of my strengths.  I needed years and years of retreat, creative incubation, and experimentation (in complete privacy, thank you very much!) in order to develop the courage necessary to put Black Stone Arts out there in the world, naysayers be damned, and to speak out publicly about the connections among my various projects and what they mean to me.  Furthermore, I needed time and space to grieve the loss of a 14-year marriage I cherished, and to heal from a profound betrayal of trust.  Without a great deal of support, silence, and solitude – not to mention big chunks of unstructured time and leisure for contemplation and extraordinarily painful, dark emotional work – I doubt I would have been able to accomplish this.  The Black Stone Hermitage might never have come into being.

But it did.  Here I am, at long last, accepting my role, putting myself out there, and giving up the notion of trying to be someone I’m not.  I still struggle with feelings of loneliness and isolation, but I know – deep in my bones and flesh – that I am on the right path for me.  It might be a twisting path, and it isn’t likely to be met with general approval, but nonetheless, it is mine, and I claim it.  I am a Temple Keeper.

Thank you to everyone who has offered me support, encouragement, friendship, appreciation, and camaraderie.  Especially for those of us on a dark and solitary path, it means a great deal.

Gifts of Skaði: Strength and Independence

Skadi's longing for the mountains

I love January.  It is my second favourite month (October is the first).  I feel Skaði’s presence very keenly at this time of year, and this year there seems to be a crisp freshness in the air around me that I cherish as a welcome manifestation of Her influence in my life.  2011 was “a kind of twisting journey” (as my dear friend Dver so aptly put it) for me, but now I feel like a cycle has finally been completed.  It’s time to leave behind some of my old emotional baggage, lighten my load, and take on a whole new set of assignments under Her tutelage.  I want to deepen my connection to Her and make my devotion to Her more visible in my work.

And, after a series of disappointments in 2011 – especially in terms of dating mismatches – my heart is bruised and I am weary.  I somehow found the courage to take risks even after the profound betrayal of a few years back, yet once again I’ve been wounded by life’s slings and arrows.  I find myself in need of a healthy infusion of Her legendary strength and independence.  Skaði helped me through my divorce, which was easily the most painful experience of my life.  She accepted my bone-deep anguish and my rage for vengeance, and I learned that I could survive.  Now, apparently, it’s time for me to learn more lessons in being on my own and making the best of it.

The story of Skaði’s marriage to Njörðr and the parting of Their ways bears several parallels to my own life.  One of the lessons I have taken from Skaði’s story in this respect is that Skaði’s taste for living amongst the wolves in cold mountainous lands is a fundamental aspect of Her that simply cannot be denied.  She must have freedom to live as best suits Her wild nature, and this cannot be changed for the sake of a relationship.

In this, as in many other ways, I take after Her.  (Not necessarily literally, however.  I do love mountains, but urban life suits me very well.  It is Her determination to be true to Her real Self even in the face of loss and hardship that inspires me the most).

My dating life is…pretty much nonexistent.  Dating as a feminist, radical, animist, queer-identified Pagan who needs a lot of solitude and is devoted enough to the dark divine to call herself a monastic is tough, even in the best of circumstances.  And I’ve had no reciprocal interest at all ever since I started documenting the Black Stone Hermitage vision.  I’ve had some attractions, and in each case I mustered up the courage to “put myself out there” and make the object of my affection aware of my feelings toward them.  This has not at all been an easy thing to do, especially given that my heart is so fragile and easily bruised and I must defy a lifetime of gender-role conditioning to do this.  But in every case, the other’s interest in me was strictly platonic.  And this pattern troubles me and raises questions in my mind.

For awhile I entertained the possibility that I might be giving off some kind of Ice Queen vibe – after all, I am devoted to Skaði, so it wouldn’t be that much of a stretch to think I might be embodying some aspect of coldness, whether consciously or not – but then I realised that I am making new friends and deepening old friendships without much trouble, so my dating woes aren’t likely to be the result of a general coldness on my part.  (One of my friends insists that I add this: “On the contrary, Thora.  You are profoundly warm-hearted, justice-minded, kind, and passionate.  These, too, are aspects of Skaði’s nature that you embody.  Keep that in mind.  You are an exceptional person; you need to hold out for an exceptional mate.”)

In any case, if my dating failures are any indication, it appears that I will not have a helpmate and intimate companion anytime in the near future.  So be it.  But the pattern of these mismatches where the other’s interest doesn’t match mine, and I get turned down time and again?  I’ve had more than enough of those.  Could we please just stop with the unrequited crushes already?  I think I’ve learned plenty about how to handle rejection gracefully without destroying friendships.  And besides, I survived a devastating divorce.  Aren’t I a bit overdue for some fulfillment and joy in the romance department?

A recent guest suggested to me, while looking around the tiny studio apartment that is my Hermitage, that I don’t appear to have room in my life for a partner.  It got me thinking: is that actually true, or is it just a projection of some sort on my guest’s part?

Well, for one thing, I do have a beautiful and extraordinarily comfortable king size bed.  I may not have room to have a mortal lover actually take up residence with me, but I certainly have a space to, uh, entertain them.  And I do hope to move into a ground-floor small house or eco-village apartment unit someday, so while this place works very well for now, I probably will not stay here forever.  I am – and have always been – open to making changes in my living situation for the sake of being closer to loved ones.  But I don’t think it would be wise to maintain a larger space on the off chance that I’ll eventually meet a mortal partner to fill it, even if that were possible for me financially (and it most definitely isn’t).

But I wonder…might there be some connection between the “official” recognition of the Black Stone Hermitage and the lack of reciprocal romantic interest in me ever since?  Why do I keep getting these painful unrequited crushes?  Am I spiritually marked in some way that indicates me to be unavailable for a relationship with a mortal partner?

That’s a tougher question.  It would make a certain kind of sense if that were the case, given that I am a sort of monastic-in-training who needs a lot of solitude to do her best Work.  Nonetheless, however, some hermits can (and do) have life partners, and not all of them share a living space.  And as much as I cherish my solitude, I do have a strong desire for this.  Furthermore, I have long felt that the gods provided me with certain gifts and inclinations that I am supposed to apply toward developing a healthy and lasting intimate love relationship with another human being.

What to make of all this?

Last week, while I was writing about something unrelated, this bit of guidance came to me unprompted, through the voice of my Serpent Muse:

“You will have a lover.  Hang in there and go after what fulfills you professionally.  You will find a lover when you are fully ready, and when it is Time.”

Apparently, then, what is called for at this time is patience and attention to other matters.  This approach would make a great deal of sense even if I knew I’d remain single for life and would never again have a mortal partner, and it is in fact where I am concentrating my energies now anyway.

Note to self, for future reference: it is not just a job or a source of income you are to pursue here.  It is professional fulfillment.  Do not lose sight of this.  Like Skaði, you must honour your wild nature and make your way in the world.  This is an aspect of you that cannot – and should not – be changed, whether or not you have a mate.

Skaði, please lend me Your strength and guidance as I set out in search of professional fulfillment on my own.

A Shift of Focus

Well, I’m back to square one.

Okay, maybe it’s not square one.  But in any case, it’s become clear, through the in-depth investigation and research I have done ever since I had the vision of the bohemian tea-room-to-be back in October, that:

1) it is not yet the right time for this tea room to come into being, or

2) I interpreted some aspect of the vision incorrectly.

Perhaps both of these things are true.  In any case, I won’t be starting a business in the near future, as I have run up against some enormous walls that won’t budge.  I have no intention of giving up the Work that I am doing, of course; I will simply keep trying various doors until I find the ones that open for me.  I will keep listening for guidance, and I will continue to pursue as many aspects of the vision as I can in the beautiful space I already inhabit.

Strangely enough, in spite of this seeming setback, I’m feeling confident, attuned, and inspired.  Tonight I’m listening to some magnificently creepy Swedish dark ambient music (Desiderii Marginis – Deadbeat), reading about occult groups and magical orders, reflecting on a great weekend visit including an industrial dance night and a Krampus Lauf ritual with my good friends Dver and Sannion, and putting together some promotional materials for Black Stone Arts.  What comes next?  I don’t know.  Nonetheless, I truly do love my life.

A Bohemian Tea-Room-To-Be

Moroccan tea lounge

A couple of months back I wrote about a commitment I made to scrap my former approach to job-hunting and follow my calling in life wherever it might take me.  I vowed to live ever after from the hands of the gods and spirits in all that I do, trusting that my material needs will be provided for if I first do the Work I have been tasked with (whether or not that Work involves having what would be considered a “normal” job.)  My lesson is: do the Work, trust in the divine, and the support will come.  It may not come in the form I expect it to, and it may involve many challenges, but if I truly do my part, it WILL come.  It might mean getting a job, or it might not.  No way to know until I simply get going on the Work and see where it leads.

I knew that the Work I’d be doing would involve artistic endeavours, including – but not limited to – writing, dance, tea service, and Bohemian style home décor.  What I didn’t know is that many visions and epiphanies would follow this commitment I made, some of which promised (threatened?) to take me deep into uncharted waters.

As a result of these visions, I’ve adopted a new name for the Work I do which encompasses all of my artistic pursuits: Black Stone Arts.  I love the name; it suits me perfectly, and it incorporates the name I had already been given for the Hermitage.

Shortly after I welcomed this new name, I became aware of a new dimension in my Work – and a huge new venture to take on – that will integrate all of my interests, education, passions, and life experience.  This venture will require me to use all of my current skills and develop many new ones as well.

A Bohemian-style tea room.  As a business.

It’s one thing to serve tea to visitors at the Hermitage, my place of residence; starting a for-profit business serving tea is something else entirely.  But the idea for this tea room took hold of me immediately and simply would not let go, despite the protests of my mind.  (“What?  Me?  Are you SURE?  Who exactly do we think we’re kidding, folks?  Are you asking me to start a retail business with a Bohemian theme in the specialty tea industry?  I’m a monastic-in-training, not an entrepreneur!  I don’t have the funds!  My knowledge of tea is still quite moderate.  I haven’t worked in a restaurant or lounge since my early twenties.  I have no idea how I’m going to pull off something like that!  Besides, I’m an introvert!  How am I supposed to handle the amount of social contact that will surely be required?”)

I would sit down at my computer to write about this tea-room-to-be, and the words would come fast and furious.  Even though I type about 70WPM, I couldn’t type anywhere near fast enough to keep up.  It was as if the planning documents were simply writing themselves.  I know better than to argue or resist when that sort of inspiration happens.  At that stage, my task isn’t to question; it’s simply to get myself out of the way as much as possible, and listen to what wants to come into being.

So…as far as I can tell, this tea room, apparently, is lurking Out There somewhere with my “stamp” on it, and it has been patiently waiting for me to step forward and participate in the process of properly bringing it into being, wherever that process shall lead me.

I am working closely with the Spirit of Tea to accomplish this Work and carry out this venture.  I will listen closely to what She wants to happen all along the way.  My vow is that I will not force or control the process; I will only serve Her by doing my best to remove any obstacles in the way that are preventing the tea room from manifesting as She wishes.

This venture certainly does make a great deal of sense, given my immense love of tea and tea culture, as well as my love of learning and my specific combination of skills and background.  Just about every long-term hobby, interest, and area of study I have embarked upon in life, formal or informal, will be brought to bear in this tea venture: tea (of course), tea customs from various cultures around the world, belly dance, Bohemian home décor, holistic health, plant spirit medicine, literature, visual art, music, philosophy, psychology, accounting…the list goes on.

It also makes sense because I am a devotee of the Tea Spirit.  Right from the beginning of the time I became interested in tea – which was right around the same time I started learning about loose leaf tea, and discovered that good tea was something other than flavoured water brewed from supermarket tea bags – I did this for spiritual reasons.  For me, tea is far more than a beverage or a business opportunity.  It’s an art, a culture, and a path of service.  Tea is a companion plant spirit that guides Her devotees toward more mindful and ecologically friendly ways of life.

So why a Bohemian tea lounge?  In part, it’s because I believe the ‘feel’ of the place plays an important part in the tea experience.  People may be initially attracted to and drawn in by the décor and the vibe, and this may lead them to take a moment to slow down, relax, and discover the amazing world of tea.  I am a firm believer that aesthetics – including beautiful teaware, as well as cozy and comfortable surroundings – are essential elements of the tea experience, and should not be dismissed as mere frivolity.

I am also a firm believer that tea should not be intimidating to newcomers.  The tea path is one of hospitality and appreciation for life’s simpler pleasures; good tea should be made accessible to people from all cultures and walks of life.  Enjoying good tea need not involve spending time in a stuffy, pretentious environment where you feel excluded if you’ve never heard words like terroir and you haven’t a clue about the difference between a Tiekuanyin and a Da Hong Pao.

There are so many things to love about the world of tea:

* Tea is a catalyst.  She opens people up to the flow of life.  Tea catalyzes friendships, storytelling, gift-sharing, philosophical reflections, introspection, self-realisation, remembrances, awakenings, and connection to the divine.

* Tea can promote cross-cultural appreciation, and provide a way to connect people of different backgrounds and sensibilities.

* Tea people are so fascinating, interesting, knowledgeable, and diverse.  There is an easy, respectful camaraderie amongst tea enthusiasts that I find to be extraordinarily encouraging and hopeful.  James Norwood Pratt, in the Tea Mavericks video, expresses my experience well: “We of the tea community have a collegial spirit that is almost impossible to find anywhere else.  I think the reason we have this collegial regard for one another and for the enterprise we share in common [is that] there is actually a spirit that inhabits the deep land, and I think that spirit chose us…it wasn’t so much our choice to become the servants of the spirit that inhabits the deep land…we’ve been brought into this ancient brotherhood and sisterhood.  And that’s what we tell everybody else: come on, you can be one too!  We’re students of each other.”

* A love of tea speaks for itself!  There’s no need for any kind of tea evangelism, because Tea does Her own sort of ‘converting’ when the conditions are right for it.

* Fresh tea has many health benefits, and is a veritable feast for the senses: olfactory, gustatory, tactile, visual.

* Tea is the only beverage that simultaneously stimulates and calms.

* Tea creates a space for tranquility and slowing down – a space that many of us can find nowhere else in our fast-paced modern lives.  As Frank Hadley Murphy puts it in one of my favourite books, The Spirit of Tea: “The very nature of tea slows us down and makes us appreciate simpler things – a simple stove to place the kettle on, a wooden countertop for the porcelain, soft lighting, peace.”

* Good tea is inspirational.  ‘Tis no secret that many of us who have found our way to Tea share a zeal that is religious in its fervor.  Statues of Buddhas and goddesses adorn tea shops for very good reasons.  Tea also lends itself to ritual and sacred space, and promotes reverence.

* Tea brings us to beauty.  We are too often starved for experiences of beauty of the sort that is true, deep, and real.  As James Norwood Pratt puts it: “If you have lost sight of beauty, tea will open your eyes.”

I could go on, but that’s a good start.

For years I have been in a sort of preliminary prep stage for this venture without even knowing it – acquiring tea books and tea serving implements, learning all I can about tea and tea cultures around the world, and sampling various kinds of tea at every opportunity.  I still have a great deal to learn about tea and feel very much a rank amateur, but it’s now time to forge ahead and deepen my involvement.

As a side note, it’s now clear to me why I didn’t get any of the “normal” jobs I applied for, despite the fact that prayed, made offerings, and gave every single job application my absolute best effort: my gods and spirits had something else in mind for me.  (No doubt the general state of the economy played its part as well, but that doesn’t conflict with my esoteric understanding of the situation.)  It’s also clear why I had to do so many years’ worth of background research and weather so many storms and losses.  Without that specific body of experience, I wouldn’t have been ready to fully accept the implications of this, nor would I have been prepared to take on this level of Work.

I’m doing copious background research and I have my eye on a tea franchise opportunity, but I still don’t have any idea how I’m going to pull this off.  A tea venture may be compatible with a monastic life if I treat it as a path of service, and I think I have most of the necessary skills, but…do I have the guts?  And who will join me in this venture?  I know I can’t do it alone, nor would I even want to.  And where will the money come from?

Ah, but I’m getting ahead of myself.  There’s that lesson again.  Just do the Work.  Take a step out into the unknown.  Follow those intuitive hunches, while checking them against the practical left-brain instincts at the same time.  Trust in the divine and remain open.  If I keep doing the Work in earnest, the support will come.

All I know so far is that, assuming I’ve interpreted this vision correctly, there is going to be a Bohemian tea lounge in the Pacific Northwest – probably in Portland or Eugene – and I have been tasked with participating in the process of bringing it to fruition.

Wish me luck…and let me know if you happen to know anyone you think I should meet.

********************

[*** A note about the images on this page: I do not own the copyrights for any of these images; they were found through an image search.  I will be happy to remove them if there is any objection to this use; all you need to do is e-mail me at thora.svensson AT gmail and ask.]

On Hermit Community and Gift Culture

Over the past few years I’ve been gradually learning more about monastic life in other religious traditions, and thinking about how monastic ways of life could work for those with Pagan, bioregional animist, or other ecologically focused spiritual practices.

Throughout the course of my research, I’ve been particularly attracted to Tibetan Buddhist monasteries, for several reasons:

• I love their unabashedly opulent and beautiful interiors, and their elaborate shrines and temple rooms – not at all the ascetic, minimalist approach that is common to many Christian monasteries.
• I love the fact that tea drinking is so central to Tibetan Buddhist monastic life, and that it is honoured as an aid to meditation.
• Sacred ritual dance is a long-standing, respected Tibetan tradition.
• White Tara came into my life, and I wanted to know more about Her.  (At first I mistook Her for Lakshmi, as I was in a state of near-total cluelessness about Tibetan Buddhism at the time.)
• I became friends with someone on a Tantric path whose yidam (deity) is a female Buddha called Vajrayogini, and the intensity of this connection inspired me to investigate Tibetan Buddhism further.
• Tibetan Buddhist monasteries are integrated into a larger group of peoples and cultures and lands, with all that implies.

I also spent time reading about several intentional communities and co-housing groups in the Portland area, and thinking about how their approaches might be modified or simplified in ways that would suit reclusive types like me whose spiritual paths are darker and who require lots of solitude for their Work.  Could I also incorporate some of the elements that inspired me in Tibetan Buddhist monasteries without mindlessly and disrespectfully ‘borrowing,’ yet do so in the context of my own solitude-focused religious life?

I have not yet answered that question, but my effort to do so has led me to investigate two local communities that have inspired me along the way: Kailash Ecovillage and Newberry House.

As someone who once bought land and actually started an intentional community that collapsed on the launching pad, I have been thoroughly disabused of the kind of idealistic notions that once drove my efforts.  However hard-won those lessons were, though, and as reluctant as I may be to admit it at times, I am nonetheless still driven by a vision of living in an interdependent community in which it is possible to live a simpler and richer life through cooperative efforts, yet which also allows for a high level of privacy – high enough that it would be sufficient to suit hermits like myself.

I like the way the folks at Newberry House describe their vision: “we’re committed to sustainable living, simpler living, and living interdependently enough that life is easier and richer through cooperation, without living so cooperatively that it is a constant project.”

Here are some things I like about the Kailash Ecovillage model as I understand it:

• It’s operated on an affordable rental model, which allows people without capital for investment/ownership to join.
• There is a screening process in place for new residents.
• There is no consensus or collective decision making.  The owners make final decisions.
• Their name means “abode of Shiva,” in reference to a mountain which is considered a sacred place in four religions: Bön, Buddhism, Hinduism, and Jainism.
• They have recycling and composting systems, including  vermicomposting and humanure (composting toilets.)
• Participation in collective activities is optional – invited and encouraged, but never coerced.  People are not penalised for opting out.
• Individual garden plots are available to residents who want them.
• Units are gradually being remodeled and retrofitted to improve energy efficiency and promote other ecologically friendly behaviour.
• The swimming pool has been filled in and turned into garden space.
• The parking lot was depaved and turned into garden space.
• The emphasis is on making eco-friendly living irresistibly attractive and appealing, rather than guilt-tripping, policing, or berating people for non-compliance.
• There are shared spaces as well as semi-private outdoor spaces.
• There is a ‘free shelf’ where people can leave things they no longer need, and take things they do.
• They chose an urban location, close to public transit and other necessities.
• The emphasis is on low-car or car-free living and human-powered transport.
• Residents seem to practice frugal living habits, including using salvaged materials, thrift store shopping, etc.
• Various plans are in the works for passive solar use, rainwater harvesting, forest gardens, and other such projects.
• The community is queer- and trans- friendly.

All of these things are immensely appealing to me.

Some additional things I would want if I were going to consider a co-housing situation:

• No children.  I’m very committed to being child-free for life, and would only be interested in sharing space with others who are similarly committed.
• Solitude and hermit friendly.
• Interfaith in a way that allows room for polytheists, bioregional animists, Pagans, Heathens, radical Buddhists, occultists, Tantric practitioners and other forms of ecological or ‘dark green’ land-based spirituality.
• Small building or plot of land with a small number of individual units or cottages (4 to 6 maximum.)
• An interest in land trusts and conservation easements.
• Tidy, uncluttered living habits.  (I’m allergic to house dust, so this is important for me.)
• An urban location in the Pacific Northwest, west of the Cascades.
• An interest in having an on-site apothecary or herbal practitioner.
• Residents with sufficient emotional maturity, responsibility, patience and self-awareness for productive conflict resolution.
• Realistic expectations (I like to call this “optimistic, yet low on utopianism.”)
• Omnivore-friendly, but no specific provisions about food, aside from interest in eating organic and locally sourced food as much as possible.
• Proximity to forests and farmers’ markets such that it would be possible to walk, bike, or use public transit to get there.
• A ‘dark’ aesthetic of décor in general, and an overall appreciation for the importance of aesthetics and arts of the home and hearth in religion.
• A space appropriate for sacred dance, and sacred tea service.
• A space appropriate for a labyrinth, stone circle, and small moss garden.
• A desire to contribute to, build, and learn how to live within a gift culture as much as possible – encompassing a full range of gifting activities such as abundance swaps, free boxes, gift circles, and so on.  (There is even a wellness center that operates on this model.  I’d love to hear of others doing similar work.)

The last of those – learning to build, reclaim and live within a gift culture, and unlearning the habits that prevent us from doing so -  is one of the most critical to me.  I have taken a vow to live from the hands of the gods in all that I do, and part of that commitment is to remain open to all the mysterious ways They may offer Their support and guidance, as well as the ways I may be able to use my gifts to serve Them.  Some of these ways may involve taking actions that appear crazy to those outside the gift paradigm.  Living from the hands of the gods means stepping out into the unknown, guided by faith and trust.

To live in a gift culture means learning how to trust the flow of gifts so that we can give freely without defining in advance what we will receive, and it means learning how to receive gifts when they come to us in a similar spirit, without guilt or shame.  It is an essential process of de-commodifying our minds, hearts and communities.  It is a way to free ourselves from the artificial scarcity created by our money system and by consumer culture’s concept of the separate self, and it is a quiet but radical challenge to the underpinnings of market-based culture.  (See Charles Eisenstein’s brilliant book Sacred Economics for more on this.)

I must admit that I’m somewhat intimidated by the notion that it is me who seems to be called to make inroads in this direction…but so be it.  I suppose I’d better learn to get better at stepping out into the unknown.

I am reminded of something I wrote after my early attempt at intentional community failed, and I was trying to sort through the many difficult lessons I learned:

“A real community cannot be engineered.  It’s very much like romantic chemistry in that way – it’s a form of magic, and it arises of its own accord when the conditions are right.  A Taoist friend referred to it as a ‘wu wei’ sort of thing, involving the paradoxical notion of effort-without-effort.  You can create conditions that are conducive to it.  You can invite it.  You can diligently do your Work.  You can prepare yourself to recognise and appreciate it.  But you cannot make it happen, and the harder you try, the more it will probably seem out of reach.”

So…as always, I shall simply keep writing, and keep on doing my Work.  The rest is in the hands of the gods and spirits.

Toward a Pagan Aesthetic of Home Decor

Meditation studio door at the Hermitage

“Our homes can be forbidding fortresses that keep out people, or inviting, hospitable places where guests feel welcomed.  A space can stifle us from reaching our true potential, or replenish our energies and encourage us to do our best.  It can harbor discontent and smother our spirits or spark ingenuity and allow our spirits to soar.”

~ Robin Lennon, Home Design from the Inside Out

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“Good architecture and interior design influence us by inspiring an immediate emotional connection, an evocation more than a linear thought process.  As much as we tell stories about ourselves through language and articulation, so too do we create narratives and belief systems through floorboards and kitchen layouts.”

~ Eva Hagberg, Dark Nostalgia

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“We love…dark materials for their ability to evoke emotions and moods, for their warmth and acceptance of the somber sides of life.  We are re-creating our own history and embracing the darkness that comes with it.”

~ Eva Hagberg, Dark Nostalgia

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Thor's Hammer plaque by Maxine Miller Studios

I love to decorate the Hermitage.  I consider it a form of sacred service.  It is a delight when visitors tell me that the space I’ve created makes them feel relaxed and comfortable, and imparts a sense of respite and retreat – even in the heart of the city.

I take great joy and pleasure in making the Hermitage into a dark, sumptuous feast of texture and colour – a dwelling of the soul.  It is a place of sanctuary that inspires me to dance, pray, do ritual, and write.  The look and feel I aim for is cave-like, opulent, and emotionally evocative – definitely not the sort of minimalist feel that is often associated with traditional monasteries.  I favour dramatic crushed velvet drapes in rich jewel tones, lots of plush overstuffed pillows, textured saris from India, Moroccan lamps and tea sets, fringed tassels, paisley prints, Persian rugs, beaded lampshades, gothic arches, mosaic tiles, canopy beds, semi-private enclosed spaces…and of course well-maintained shrines for the gods and spirits I serve.

I have always had a DIY thrift store sort of style and ethic.  Decorating lavishly with an eye toward the kind of beauty that enriches the spirit needn’t mean spending a lot of money; in fact, I take pride in my ability to pull this off on as little money as possible.  One of my favourite decorating books is a 1981 gem entitled Affordable Splendor: An Ingenious Guide to Decorating Elegantly, Inexpensively, and Doing Most of it Yourself by Diana Phipps.  Another is Pad: The Guide to Ultra-Living by Matt Maranian.  If, like me, you have ever wanted to transform your living space into a combination of opulent tea lounge, temple dance tent, and shrine room, with a dark, gothic, or bohemian-inspired vibe…but with very little funds, then I recommend these books to help you get started.

Futon with crushed velvet throw

Another source of decorating inspiration for me is The Grotto, a well-maintained garden space in Portland with alcoves featuring Catholic statuary, and a meditation space with big comfy chairs and a window with a panoramic view of the city.  I have long yearned for something similar for Pagans.  While all faiths are welcome at The Grotto, and I am happy to go there, I think that there is a need for a similar place with statues of Pagan gods and goddesses.  Although I don’t have a garden space at the Hermitage – nor even a balcony – I love to imagine what I would do if I did have one!

Often, home decorating is trivialised and denigrated as a stereotypically feminine, frivolous, luxury-oriented pursuit driven by little more than a selfish desire to improve social status or conspicuously display wealth.  But in our haste to condemn the shallow, consumerist version of this approach – a critique that is perfectly appropriate, stemming as it usually does from a sense of ecological awareness – we risk throwing the proverbial baby out with the bathwater.

Reclaiming the sacramental dimension of the arts of home and hearth is important and timely work, and it can be undertaken on many levels.  Aesthetically pleasing, clean, non-toxic, organised, and consciously decorated surroundings can serve a deeper purpose: honouring the gods and spirits, creating sacred space, and inviting inhabitants and guests alike to turn their attention toward the divine.

As a society and culture, we are chronically overextended, overworked, and undernourished.  When I turn my attention to the arts of home décor, mindful tea service, shrine-building, and home organising, I do so with the intent that my work serve as a conduit for much-needed nourishment: physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual.  I want the Hermitage to be conducive to solitude and replenishment, as well as a welcoming place for visitors to rest and allow awareness to deepen.

Inside the meditation studio at the Hermitage

Human beings have a deep, often unacknowledged need for places of delight.  We need sacred living spaces that fill us with joy, allow ample room for play and leisure, and promote comfort and inner ease.  This need is especially acute in the USA, where our modernised, sterile built environment, strip-mall consumer culture, and Puritan work ethic can become especially toxic and draining.  Our spirits have become weary from too many hours spent in built environments that do not nourish us.

A space designed, arranged and decorated skillfully and artfully – with proper attention to textures, colours, arrangement, and compatibility of materials – can become a place that refines the senses and softens the soul.  We can create in our surroundings the conditions that facilitate joy and mindfulness, and empower us to experience the deeper subtleties that are all too easy to miss in our moments of haste.

Living in the Gift: Trust in the Divine

Hekate shrine close-up

Today I gratefully received one of the best gifts ever.

My dear friend Dver gifted me with this beautiful piece of artwork.  I had admired this piece on her Hekate shrine while visiting Dver in June, and felt particularly drawn to her long silver flowing hair, ethereal garments, and beatific porcelain face.

The timing couldn’t have been better.

I had been feeling that my writing space was missing something, and really needed to be spruced up in some kind of way that helped me feel more connected to the Divine while working at my desk.

Just a few weeks ago, I had felt the sudden urge to put a beautiful piece of Hekate artwork on the wall just above my computer: a piece called “Hecate at the Crossroads II” by Diana Denslow.  It originally came to me unbidden back in 2006, long before I had any conscious interest in Hekate.  The friend who gave it to me said it reminded her of me.  Until today, it was the only thing associated with Hekate that I had.

Hecate at the Crossroads II - Art by Denslow

Recently Hekate has shown Herself in my life more frequently, for reasons I don’t yet understand, and I had just been thinking that it was time to build a small shrine for Her.  I do not know Her well yet, but receiving this gift is one of many recent occurrences that make it clear to me that I will be getting to know Her better!

I made space for Dver’s lovely gift just above my daily writing prayer, and just to the right of “Hecate at the Crossroads II.”  I had been listening to Wardruna and Hagalaz’ Runedance as I cleaned my desk and built the shrine, and just as I finished, I broke into spontaneous dance to celebrate (as I often do, since dance is such a central aspect of my spiritual life.)

On a deeper level, I see this gift as an affirmation of a commitment I recently made to follow my calling – namely, writing – and trust in the gods and spirits to provide for my material needs.  In response to my prayers, I’ve been reminded again and again that I am a writer, a dancer, and a temple keeper first and foremost; in fact it has been made clear to me that I have at least three book manuscripts Assigned To Me to write.  Eep!

This is a giant leap of faith for me, because money is very tight and many people around me think I’m crazy for concentrating on writing and insisting on the need to live in a gift culture instead of hunting for a “normal” job.  Writing is a starving-artist profession, right?  So where will the money come from?

Thora's computer desk writing area and Hekate shrine

My answer is that I don’t know.  Why not?  Because that is not for me to determine.  My Assignment is to complete what They have asked of me, and let Them provide for my support.  That is a big part of what it means for me to live in a culture of the gift.

Admittedly, I do feel some trepidation, and it certainly isn’t easy to deal with all the naysayers who think I’ve lost my marbles…but nonetheless, I am placing myself completely in Their hands.

Life is short, my friends, and one never knows how much time one has left on this Earth.  I don’t want to die with all this writing still “in” me, sloshing around and demanding to be let out.

I am trusting that as long as I do my part, and carry out Their assignments, They will do Theirs and I will be provided for somehow.  It’s certainly possible that this could involve big changes, such that my life won’t look anything like it does now, but if so, I trust that They will guide me through it and I will not be left high and dry.  That’s a big part of what faith is about for me: trust in the Divine.

I am filled with gratitude.  Every time I pause to look up at my Hekate shrine while I’m writing, I will be reminded of my commitment to always put Them first, over all else, and to follow my calling wherever it may lead me.

Hail the gods!

Shrine for Skaði

Thora's shrine for Skaði - full view

This is my shrine at The Hermitage for Skaði, the bold, strong-willed and enigmatic Jötunn, mountain-dweller, Öndurdís, goddess of winter and the primal hunt.  Maria Kvilhaug calls Her “the giantess of the underworld.”  Lee Hollander calls Her “dweller among the rocks.”

The altar cloth is silver-grey crushed velvet.  Draped over the front are two iridescent scarves – one white, and one purple and black.  Laid on top of the purple scarf is a strand of crystal beads.

In the small black cauldron in the front is an offering to Her – in this case, white tea leaves.  The tea I chose for Her is called Snowflakes, which I thought was just perfect.

To the left of the photo there is a small round box which I use for written prayers, and behind that a blue candle with snowflake imprints.  In the center is a silver serving plate shaped like a star, with a snowflake etched into the center.  To the right of the photo there are two white candles, one shaped like a snowflake and surrounded with clear stones.  (Although you can’t see it in this photo, the candle in the back has a beaded bracelet that I made for Her wrapped around it.)  Immediately to the right of the white candles is framed artwork of wolves in moonlit snow.

In the center is an artist’s interpretation of Her, in a frame wrapped in silver crushed velvet.  Above that is a small arched mirror framed in black stone.  To either side of the mirror are silver wall sconces, through which I draped more iridescent fringed scarves.  The background is holographic snowflake-print wrapping paper attached to the wall.  It reflects light nicely, giving a lovely rainbow effect.

I discovered that the pictures accompanying one of the first shrines I made for Skaði – at the LiveJournal pimp_my_altar community – have gone missing, so I will re-post them here.

Hail Skaði!

An Introduction – Hail and Welcome!

Thora's shrine for Skaði

I’m Thora Svensson. I use this name in religious contexts; I also write under the name D. JoAnne Swanson.

I identify as a Pagan polytheist, bioregional animist, and mystic who works within the Northern Tradition.  I do not identify as Heathen or Ásatrú, although I have occasionally used those terms (very loosely speaking, I might add) in the past, mainly for the sake of convenience.

I live in downtown Portland, OR, in a small studio condo (I call it my Hermitage), where I work contentedly as a freelance writer and drink a lot of home-brewed tea.  I’m a non-parent and a non-driver by choice, and I have no pets.  I’m obsessively neat, tidy and organized (I have to be, since I’m allergic to house dust, mold and mildew spores, and animal dander).  I love industrial, rhythmic noise, powernoise, dark ambient, neofolk and gothic music and culture.  I dress in black most of the time.  I have advanced-level formal education, but I’m primarily an autodidact and have no further interest in academia aside from the fact that I’m a bookish nerd grrl who spends a lot of time in university libraries for purposes of self-driven research.

My interests include philosophy, psychology, systems theory, mythology, ancient mystery cults all over the world (but especially in pagan Germanic and Scandinavian lands), suppressed histories, indigenous peoples’ sovereignty, labyrinths, caves, snakes and serpent wisdom traditions, stone circles, tea culture and ritual, domestic arts and hearth rites, gothic bellydance and tribal fusion bellydance, sacred and devotional dance, trance dance, altered states of consciousness, folk magic, divination, runes, and sacred plant medicine.

I’m also interested in simple living, herb gardening, naturopathic medicine, DIY crafts and home decorating, cooking and eating based on locavore and paleo principles and the Weston A. Price foundation, urban permaculture and homesteading, gift culture, barter and community currencies, yurts and tiny houses, community conservation land trusts, moss gardens, bamboo gardening, low fossil fuel urban living, and hiking in the temperate rainforests of Portland and the Pacific Northwest.

I have been a solitary Pagan for over 15 years, and I mean really solitary.  Though I do enjoy religious community and communal rites, I am mostly a hermit by nature who requires long periods of solitude and works mostly in private quarters.  My path is that of a temple keeper, and this blog was created as a way of exploring this direction more deeply and as a way to facilitate connections with other introverts, loners and contemplatives who are interested in Pagan monastic life and hermitage.

In the past I have maintained memberships in Heathen organizations (mostly through online interaction), and I sometimes attend UU churches and Pagan rituals on occasion, but I am not formally affiliated with any groups, covens, kindreds, groves, temples, churches, or other religious organizations.  I am often attracted to the more feminist-friendly elements of Hindu temples, Taoist wisdom, and Tibetan Buddhist monasteries, but at heart I am a Pagan with a strong spiritual attraction to the darker side of the Northern Tradition, and so far that has kept me from feeling fully at home in any of the religious groups I’ve explored.

My ancestry is half Swedish and half German.  I identify strongly with my Swedish maternal female ancestral line.  However, I also feel strongly that the gods call whomsoever They will, regardless of bloodlines, and this should be respected.  I value the scholarship of Pagan reconstructionists, though I myself am not a reconstructionist.  I respect scholarly knowledge as well as the paths of felt experience, personal gnosis, mysticism, bodily wisdom, and artistic creativity.  Though I was raised in a New Age family with connections to A Course in Miracles (and even some influences from Scientology), I don’t identify with most of what is called New Age thought.  I acknowledge the influences of my own “touchy-feely” upbringing with its focus on the self and personal growth, but I’m much more interested in a contemplative approach to learning from the land and building relationships with plant spirits than I am in navel-gazing.

The primary deity in my devotional practice is Skaði, a Jötunn.  (I hesitate to call Her my “patroness,” as She seems rather cold and indifferent to the label I attach to the relationship.)  My devotional dance project, started in 2006, is called Shrine of Skaði in honour of Her.  Dance has been an important part of my spiritual life since I was a child, although I was not able to articulate it this way until much later.

I also maintain shrines for Óðinn, Þórr, Freyja, and Freyr, as well as a serpent shrine (World Serpent, Earth Serpent).

For many years I didn’t look outside the Northern Tradition in my devotional activities at all, but these days I also work with and worship goddesses, gods and spirits from other traditions that find Their way to me.  (Unsurprisingly, They usually seem to do this through dance, writing or my many other creative pursuits).  Ganesha, Shiva, Sarasvati, White Tara, Isis, and Hekate have all found Their way into my life in some form or another.  As far as I can tell, They don’t seem to care what I call myself or what religious allegiances I maintain, as long as I carry out Their work sincerely, respectfully, effectively, and with proper intent.  They seem  much more concerned with what I do than with what I believe.

Since I believe that learning as much as I can about the cultures and mythologies of the gods and spirits I serve is very important, I spend a LOT of time reading and studying, and yet I still feel like I’m only beginning to make a dent in the vast sea of learning I have on my plate.  Although I’ve always had a rich spiritual life, I had no interest at all in mythology and religious history until I was in my thirties…so I have a lot of catching up to do!

And now for a confession: I feel like most of the time I don’t really know what I’m doing.  In some cases I know enough to know what I am and what I am not, but a significant amount of the time I feel as if I’m forging ahead with no clue whatsoever.  All I have to go on is inchoate yearnings, sudden inexplicable affinities toward certain books or things that had previously escaped my notice, or perhaps faint whispers that appear to me unbidden and call to me like tiny, tantalizing snippets of a poem for which I can’t seem to find the author, title, or the full text.

I sometimes ask myself: Is this what I’m supposed to use flesh out this vision of a Pagan hermitage or monastery?  How am I going to manage that?  Yet the more steps I take in the direction of bringing this vision to fruition, the more affirmative signs I seem to receive that it is in fact the right path, so…

…so be it.  I have no idea where this is going to take me; I’m groping around in the dark and I can’t even see around the corner at this point.  All I know is that I must keep taking definitive steps in this direction.

Since there is no existing Pagan monastic tradition for us to join, we who aspire to the monastic life, but who don’t want to join a monastery in another religious tradition, are left with no choice but to build it ourselves – a very challenging path indeed.  Perhaps one day The Black Stone Hermitage will involve others besides myself; perhaps a group of would-be Pagan monastics (and others of compatible, Pagan-friendly religions) will come together to build a hermitage together.  For now, I am arranging my living space – and my entire life, really – such that I may live the life of a lay monastic as much as possible.  In April 2011 I converted one of my closets into a tiny, cavelike meditation studio.  I also maintain space in my home for tea rituals, sacred and devotional dance (including costuming, adornment and ornamentation), research and study (including an extensive home library with many out-of-print books), and various arts and crafts such as making prayer beads and religious jewelry.

Solitary Paganism can be a tough path.  I value solitude deeply and I don’t mind walking the path alone most of the time, but I also yearn for more structure in Paganism as a whole – more organization; more regular religious rites; clean, attractive and well-maintained temple spaces; the unified look and feel of black robes or other monastic forms of dress; the opportunity to share meals and tea rituals as well as take them alone; and a steady schedule of worship, meditation and service integrated into the rhythms of daily life.  I want to be part of a Pagan tradition that feels more like a religion, integrated into a culture, than a belief system or a set of magical practices.  I especially yearn for a monastic space where those of a darker persuasion – especially women and queer-identified people – are just as welcome as everyone else.  And I have been instructed that there is a need for this in the world.

So here I am, putting this Pagan hermitage vision out there in blog form, in the hopes that it will be found by those who need it.

Thanks for reading.  Feel free to contact me at thora.svensson AT gmail DOT com.  I can also be found on Facebook under the name Thora Svensson.