So, I decided to make myself a new set of Runes.
I'd made a set out of river stones back in High School, which were rather sweet, and I was well connected to and understanding of. Over time, as I went to University, my connection to them waned, and my practise changed, and I passed them along to a close friend who I felt could use them. She was never one much for Runes, or divination tools of that sort, and passed them along to her sister who I hope eventually put them to good use.
My tarot cards seem to do a lot more for others than they do for me. I've had to chase my tarot-reading friends out my door to get my cards back whenever I've let them use them. They've always been more of a passing fancy for me, and although I feel them in a warm and fuzzy way, when I need serious meditation guidance, relevant answers, prescient advice, Runes have always been the tool for me. I chalk it up to my Nordic temperament, and Celtic ancestry, I suppose. I've always felt about pagan practise, that somewhere far back, there are ancestors that speak to me this way.
A good branch fell from the ash in the back yard of my new house during a windstorm a few weeks ago. I saw it as a sign, and cut it up into discs, which was a very satisfying action, despite finding a bit of rot at it's core, I didn't feel as though the resulting stones would be dead, or rotten, or wretched.
I set out to redden them last night, in blood and wine and olive oil. I was disappointed that I couldn't locate a tool to carve into the soft and spongy wood effectively, but elected to paint them instead of inscribe them, as I had a supply of blood at my disposal, and the time felt right. I didn't want to wait until next month.
Maybe it's my impatience and hastiness in the building of the set. Maybe it's the rot in the wood. Maybe it's the house, and the questionable vibe of the property. But now that I've got them reddened, marked and dry, they give me a very clear "No" feeling. They're not dead. There is certainly something in them. But it's not anything I want to work with, or in my life. What is this thing? Is it mine? It certainly doesn't feel like it is.
And now what do I do? I've got this set of Runes that are all wrong. I reddened them with my own blood and I am, consequently, disinclined to pass them along to someone else. I can't just throw them into the compost bin, that doesn't seem right either. Bury them by the tree that they came from? Burn them? What to do?
I'd made a set out of river stones back in High School, which were rather sweet, and I was well connected to and understanding of. Over time, as I went to University, my connection to them waned, and my practise changed, and I passed them along to a close friend who I felt could use them. She was never one much for Runes, or divination tools of that sort, and passed them along to her sister who I hope eventually put them to good use.
My tarot cards seem to do a lot more for others than they do for me. I've had to chase my tarot-reading friends out my door to get my cards back whenever I've let them use them. They've always been more of a passing fancy for me, and although I feel them in a warm and fuzzy way, when I need serious meditation guidance, relevant answers, prescient advice, Runes have always been the tool for me. I chalk it up to my Nordic temperament, and Celtic ancestry, I suppose. I've always felt about pagan practise, that somewhere far back, there are ancestors that speak to me this way.
A good branch fell from the ash in the back yard of my new house during a windstorm a few weeks ago. I saw it as a sign, and cut it up into discs, which was a very satisfying action, despite finding a bit of rot at it's core, I didn't feel as though the resulting stones would be dead, or rotten, or wretched.
I set out to redden them last night, in blood and wine and olive oil. I was disappointed that I couldn't locate a tool to carve into the soft and spongy wood effectively, but elected to paint them instead of inscribe them, as I had a supply of blood at my disposal, and the time felt right. I didn't want to wait until next month.
And now what do I do? I've got this set of Runes that are all wrong. I reddened them with my own blood and I am, consequently, disinclined to pass them along to someone else. I can't just throw them into the compost bin, that doesn't seem right either. Bury them by the tree that they came from? Burn them? What to do?
