Waxing Corn Moon (Age: 4 days)
Weather: Fair skies, seasonably warm
Dramatic blog title for the win? I did have a vision recently. And said vision did involve death. It was not, however, a warning of impending doom or something like that. (I feel like I need to capitalize DOOM and put blinking lights around it or something for full effect. Anyways...) I know that what I saw was important and necessary. I just am confused as to what my role in it all is. I talked with Njordswife about it and she guesses that it may be a notice from the gods that I have some major changing to do. I don't know if that's accurate or not. We were both kinda pulling straws and trying to guess what looked almost accurate.
I've been trying to make sense of this for a little over two weeks now. I keep coming back to the same two questions. Why was I witnessing it and what am I supposed to do with the cup full of blood? But I am getting ahead of myself. Lets first take a moment to describe the vision in its entirety. Who knows, maybe somebody who is better at this stuff then I am can tell me what I'm missing here. I'm pretty sure it's something obvious that I'm missing and once it is pointed out I'll feel like a dunce for missing it. It seems to be my track record of late.
I was standing in a field of harvested wheat with a crowd of others. Before us was a sheaf's worth of wheat waiting to be cut. To the left of the wheat stood Freyr and Nerthus/Jord (it is my understanding that Nerthus and Jord are the same and that she is his mother). I was standing towards the front of the group, who were all quite happy and in a celebratory mood. Freyr and his mother were both a bit more reserved and solemn. Skírnir was standing to my right. He was also solemn.
He said to me that I could leave. That they wouldn't fault me for my 'modern sensibilities.' I had the distinct feeling that it was better that I stay and make it through what ever was coming, and I had my suspicions that it was some form of ritual slaying because it was the beginning of harvest. I replied that I would stay and that I understood that life feeds on life. This apparently was a good answer because Freyr smiled at that.
Skírnir guided me to the front of the group so that I was standing directly infront of Freyr. A silver cup that was engraved with scenes of the agricultural year and of the life cycle of wheat was put into my hands. I knew, somehow, that I was to hold it up. Then with out warning, Nerthus slit Freyr's throat open in a right to left gesture with a sickle. Arterial blood sprayed everywhere. A good amount of it hit me and somehow filled the cup.
As Freyr was bleeding, he looked at me with that warm smile of approval on his face. And then... Well, it makes me feel a bit cold and creeped out to think of it, but I watched the light go out of his eyes. He collapsed to the ground and his corpse melted into the earth. Wheat sprung up where his body had been and progressed through its life cycle to ripeness in a matter of moments.
The celebrants grew louder and more excited in their song and mannerisms. Someone, I don't think it was Skírnir, clapped me on the shoulders and declared it to be a good omen that I had gotten so much blood on me. That was the last image of the vision, a tall man with straw colored hair and a very full beard with a wide grin looking at me like he was so happy he was about to burst into song.
I've been thinking about it. Freyr's blood on me brings to mind the Christian rite of baptism. And the cup of blood and wheat makes me think of the Christian rite of the Eucharist. I don't know if I am looking at this the right way, though. I don't understand why I was there to witness it. I don't understand why I was to hold the cup and catch his blood. I don't even know what I'm supposed to do with that proverbial cup.
Since that vision, I have had a few dreams of that cup. I've seen it sitting at a table with an empty plate and a broken knife. I think that would be Hel's hall. I've also seen it sitting on a stone altar that is covered with a white cloth. Beside it is a loaf of bread, a crock of butter, and a dish of honey. I know these things are connected, I just can't mange to figure out how. I don't know why I am dreaming of this cup. I am increasingly convinced if this cup doesn't exist, it needs to. It looks like a kiddush cup.
I don't know what to make of this. But it keeps rattling around in my head. And since it is Lammas eve, I might as well post this now. Fortuitous timing and all that. Oh, one other thing to note, that vision came the day that one of the farmers around here started harvesting his wheat.