Norse Goddess Magic (13 page)

H
ALLOWING

(Details about how to do this are included in chapter 4, “How to
Do Trancework.”)

• Chant
  Ansuz—Laguz—Uruz
  and light the Candle of Will.
  
• Chant
  Woden—Wili—We
  three times to center yourself and draw all the
  participants together.
  
• Perform the hammer hallowing.
  

S
TATEMENT

• “We gather to greet the queen of Heaven and to share our gifts here on
  her hearth . . .”
  

C
ALL TO
F
RIGG

Frigg, mighty mother,
Mistress of Fensalir,
Lady of the Aesir and the Asynjur,
Daughter of Fjörgynn,
Wife of Odin,
Mother of Balder and his blind brother.

We call you from Fensalir, the Hall of Mists,
From the high throne of Hlidskjalf, the magic mirror,
From the Lyfjaberg, the hill of healing!

Queen of High Heaven, weaver of clouds,
Prudent wife and wisest of counselors,
Knowing all fates, though speaking them never.

The keys of Asgard hang at your waist.
Unlock the doors to those bright halls,
High Hostess, greet the people of Midgard,
And loving counsel give your children.

Frigg, the queen, the star mother!
You fashion the clouds on the loom of heaven
And spin your thread on the wheel of time.

You bring order to the Nine Worlds,
And knowledge to men and women.
You are midwife to the earth;
By your skill you bring forth the fruit of her labor.

To all who seek, to all who aspire,
You give your candle to light the way
And teach your song to startle the stillness,
For those who have wisdom need never fear.

We call you from Fensalir, the Hall of Mists,
From the high throne of Hlidskjalf, the magic mirror,
From the Lyfjaberg, the hill of healing!

Great Mother, greet the people of Midgard,
And loving counsel give your children;

They who have called you
    Holda, Berchte, Frau Gode,
    Vrou-Elde, Ffraed, Brigid,
    Frijjo, Frija, Fricg, Frigida, Frigg,
Come!
Frigg, Mother, Come!
Frigg, Beloved, Come!

B
LESSING

• During the final part of the above invocation, raise your hands (or spindle
  or other holy symbol, if you are using one) and then lower them over, or into,
  the vessel of drink. Visualize a stream of blessing and power flowing from the
  goddess and the participants into the liquid.
  
• Raise the horn or cup; make the symbol of a spiral over it and say, “Frigg,
  make holy this gift of our skill and our love.”
  
• Pass the drink clockwise around the circle, letting all the participants
  take turns sharing it. If you are alone, drink part of it yourself.
  
• When you're finished, take a tree twig, preferably an evergreen, and
  sprinkle your hörg and all the participants. Sprinkle a little in each of the
  four quarters, saying: “Hail to the North!” and “Hail to the East!” and so on.
  
• Pour the remainder in a blessing bowl. Pour this libation out upon the
  ground, preferably at the base of a tree, saying, “Hail, Frigg, queen of Asgard.
  Accept this gift of our skill and our love.” (If you are performing the blót
  indoors, keep the bowl on the hörg and pour it out on the ground immediately
  after the rite, or at the earliest convenient opportunity.)
  

C
LOSING

• “Hail Frigg, queen of Asgard and mightiest of mothers!”
  
• Chant
  Woden—Wili—We
  three times.
  
• Chant
  Ansuz—Laguz—Uruz; Alu
  and blow out the Candle of Will.
  

As mentioned earlier, after the ritual proper it is a good idea
to quickly record your experiences and impressions for future use. It is also
appropriate to have a small celebration or feast, which can include some
suitable food and drink as well as any appropriate songs, stories, and other
entertainment. After all, gods and goddesses, like human guests, like to be made
welcome when they go visiting.

9

Eir

The Doctor

Lore

Eir (ON Eir) is called
honer loeknir beztr
(“the best of
leeches”), the finest doctor, in the
Prose Edda
(Gylfaginning, ch. 35).
In early Norse culture medicine was practiced more or less exclusively by women,
which explains why Eir is a goddess of healing and not a god. The etymology of
her name is not completely clear, but it probably means something like
“gracious,” “kindly,” or “helpful.” The Norse word
eir
(“copper”) is not
technically related to this goddess's name. Still, it is interesting to note the
connection copper has, even today, with the cure of certain ailments, such as
the wearing of copper bracelets to treat arthritis.

Eir is listed among the Asynjur and may be regarded as one of Frigg's
attendants; thus the two can be assumed to share many qualities and functions.
This is borne out by the fact that Frigg was also connected with healing,
particularly childbirth. Eir also appears in the train of another
goddess—Menglod. In the only surviving tale that Eir appears in, the Svipdagsmál
in the
Elder Edda
(sts. 51–56), the hero Svipdag has come to seek
Menglod's hand in marriage. Her giant warder, Fjolsvith (which is also one of
Odin's many names), engages him in one of those question-and-answer sessions so
dear to the Norse heart. In the process, he directs his attention to a nearby
mountain—the Lyfjaberg, or “Hill of Healing”—where Menglod sits happily with her
nine maidens. Among these maidens, whose names all mean things like “Shelter,”
“Pleasant,” and “Peaceful,” is Eir. The figure of Menglod (“Necklace Glad”) is
sometimes identified with Frigg, but more often with Freyja. Freyja, like Frigg,
was also connected with healing and childbirth. Also, the wooing and subsequent
marriage of Menglod to the hero, as well as her situation on a fire-ringed
mountain, is similar to the Valkyrie Sigrdrífa in the Sigrdrífumál (or Brunhild
in the
Niebelungenlied
).

To arrive at a single deity solely in charge of childbirth and healing is
thus very difficult. This is one of the areas where the powers of Frigg and
Freyja intersect. They were both called on by women in labor, and often at the
same time, as in the Oddrúnargrátr (st. 8). This kind of juxtaposition could be
explained by the premise that the two goddesses were worshipped in different
areas of the North until their functions gradually merged and became blurred.
This duality might also represent different kinds of healing.

For all the similarities and confusion between Frigg and Freyja (see
here
), in practice (that is, invoking these goddesses and seeing what happens)
the feel or “flavor” of each is unmistakable and very, very different. Freyja,
among other things, is full of movement, energy, and lusty life—the force of
life itself, certainly a desirable thing for a healing. Frigg, on the other
hand, brings peace, soothing, calmness—also good at the sickbed. Instead of
worrying about which goddess is the “official” healer, it is more useful to
decide what kind of healing you want for a given occasion—vibrant energy or
soothing peace (or both, as in childbirth). For example, one might picture
Freyja as a physical therapist inciting you to exercise and Frigg as the mother
encouraging you to rest. Freyja would also seem more appropriate for invasive
techniques like surgery and drug therapy, while Frigg is probably more
interested in holistic types of medicine, such as herbalism, massage, and
preventive practices. It is significant that Eir, the goddess of healing, serves
both of them, although her main connection and energy seem to be related to
Frigg and the Asynjur.

Medical science in Heathen times was part priestly, part magical, and part
common sense. In the
Heimskringla
(ch. 234), Snorri gives an example of
medical treatment in his account of the death of Thormod Kolbrunarskald after
the battle of Stiklestad in 1030. In this tale the wounded were taken to a barn
after the fighting, where a woman heated water and dressed their wounds. She
then made a porridge of leeks and herbs and fed it to the wounded. If the smell
of onions came from a man's belly wound, it meant his intestines had been
pierced and he was dying. This use of a test meal for diagnosis is still used
today, albeit not with leek porridge. Tacitus, in his
Germania
(ch. 6),
describes how the German tribes took their womenfolk to the battle with them.
There the women not only shrieked and shouted to frighten the enemy and
encourage their own warriors, but they also performed magical rites of warding
and divination. They also functioned as physicians, and they were said to be
unafraid to count and compare the gashes.
¹
This presence of women on
the battlefield also ties in with Freyja and the Valkyries.

On a more peaceful note, healing goddesses also took particular interest in
the well-being of women, who especially needed medical help during childbirth.
The Lyfjaberg of Menglod was a holy place devoted to sick women; the Svipdagsmál
states that if a woman climbed it, she would be cured no matter how long she had
been sick. It goes on to say that these goddesses would aid all who gave
offerings on the holy altars and would protect mortals from danger (st. 56).

This tie between ritual and healing can also be seen in the relationship of
healers to seers and sorcerers. Great pestilences and serious illnesses required
sacrifices to the gods as well as more practical treatment. By the Middle Ages,
this ritual function had passed to the Christian priests, but some of the old
folkways continued to be practiced by peasant wisewomen and wisemen who, as the
knowledge became diffused and muddled over time, began to misuse the old
remedies and brought on themselves the charge of witchcraft.

The healer Eir also has links to Frigg in the latter's role as ruler and
mistress of the household. In ancient times queens, as well as kings, were often
believed to have the power to cure certain illnesses by their touch. This
connection between the lady of the estate and the medical treatment of the rest
of the inhabitants continued through the Middle Ages and up to the present. The
lady of the manor generally felt responsible for the health of the tenants, as
did the wife of many a farmer or rancher. Even today it is usually Mom to whom
you run for the aspirin and sympathy. It is ironic that women struggling to
become doctors in the recent past and present have been told that medicine is
“man's work.”

Folk Remedies

Some examples of folk remedies that combined magic with medicine
included measuring the patient, hanging the measuring thread or string somewhere
for a specific time, and then checking to see if the measurement had changed;
the result indicated the patient's fate.
²
Another practice was to
stroke the affected part of the body with one's hand, a sleeve, or the back of a
knife. Sometimes a thread or string was tied around the afflicted area, often
with a medicinal poultice underneath it.
³
Some cures involved
wrapping the patient in fresh, clean flax or laying her in a field of flax.
⁴
Flax and linen are, of course, also associated with Frigg.

The elder tree was incorporated into a number of healing customs. In
Scandinavia an elder twig held in the mouth was believed to be a remedy for
toothache. Some healing practices involved bathing the patient and drawing the
disease into the water then emptying it onto an elder bush. Sometimes the illess
was transferred to an egg or another object, which was then wrapped in linen and
buried.
⁵

The use of fire to cure certain ailments was also common. The practice of
driving beasts and people through festival fires to ensure their health and
well-being was common throughout western Europe. An old cure for fever,
reminiscent of Hansel and Gretel, involved pushing a sick child in and out of a
baking oven (not while the oven was lit, presumably). Another custom was to lay
a child by the hearth fire to invoke the cure of the goddess and the night wives
(female supernatural entities believed to haunt the night).
⁶
This
brings to mind tales of the White Lady, who was said to sit by the fire at night
and rock the babies of her chosen household.

The image of a motherly goddess of the hearth is found in other European
legends as well. For example, a Greek myth tells of a queen who is visited by a
strange woman who offers to wet-nurse the queen's newborn son. One night the
mother wakes up and wanders into the main hall to find that the woman has placed
the baby in the hearth fire. When the mother understandably screams, the
stranger, now recognizable as the goddess Demeter, snatches the child out of the
fire and gives him to her, chiding the mother that the treatment had almost made
the child invulnerable but that the mother's meddling has ruined it. Demeter was
the Greek goddess of the fields and agriculture and, like Frigg, lost her
favorite child to the deity of the Underworld.

It is also interesting to note the way in which certain diseases were
personified, especially the dreaded plague. Usually depicted as a woman, she
often bears a strong resemblance to Hel, the goddess of death. In certain areas
of Germany and Central Europe she was called Kuga, and people had to be careful
to avoid leaving unwashed dishes in the house overnight or Kuga would feel
obliged to stop and clean them as she passed through.
⁷
This figure is
reminiscent of the Germanic versions of Frigg—Berchte and Holda—who made it
their business to inspect the housekeeping on Twelfth Night. But then, it is not
surprising that death and healing should go hand in hand.

Eir piqued my curiosity because my meditations on her came in a spontaneous,
rather than a structured, fashion, and I ran into some very interesting
coincidences connected with her. In a way, she was the goddess that started it
all for me.

It began one spring when I had become suddenly and violently ill—nausea,
diarrhea, fever. I had assumed it was some sort of flu and gone to bed,
resigning myself to the inevitable. Because a violent series of chills and
shaking prevented me from getting to sleep, however, I decided to use some of
this magic I had been studying—what good is it if you can't use it when you need
it? I made a tea of sage, chamomile, elder, and peppermint, because this
combination seemed appropriate somehow, according to my scanty knowledge of
herbs. The previous summer I had listened to a workshop given by a woman who
used a healing technique based on the chakras—energy, in the form of light, was
drawn through each center of the body, beginning with the area just above the
head and ending with the area just below where one stood or sat. At the time, I
had just begun doing this Heathen stuff (lots of reading but not much practice)
and I didn't know any appropriate healing techniques of my own, so I decided to
adapt this. I took my tea and charged it, drawing energy down through the
centers of my body and into the tea, and called on Eir, who I knew was the Norse
goddess of healing. The chills and shaking stopped even before I finished; the
knots in my stomach loosened. I drank the tea and tried to sleep, thinking how
nice it would be if I had a dream about this goddess, Eir . . .

Trance

A woman is beside me. She has light-brown hair, done up in a
soft, intricate knot. She is of medium height—sharp featured, sharp boned,
square shouldered, angular. Her eyes are sharp, deep-set, and gray; she is calm
and serious. Stroking me, laying her hands on my stomach, she begins doing the
energy raising for me. She lies down, her body on top of mine, belly to belly,
and breathes into my mouth. I sleep . . .

Well, I was pretty excited; I'd had a genuine visitation! Now
before I go on, I want to make it clear that I'm a pretty suspicious, cynical
type not given to believing everyone who thinks they've been walking between the
worlds, not even me (especially not me). On the other hand, I do believe that
such things are possible. I just want to make sure I'm getting the genuine
article and not simply fooling myself. So I like to approach such visions of
mine with a healthy degree of skepticism.