Being a Mystic in Middle Earth

My friend Svartesol posted recently on the idea of mysticism as a spectrum ranging from those who don’t seem to have any aptitude for it at all to those who are constantly engaged in full-time communication with the Gods and spirits. Like most extremes, people at both ends of this spectrum are rare, with most of us falling at some point along the continuum. Personally, I consider myself more or less a 5.5 on the “Siggy scale;” that is, I function as a solid 5 most of the time, though there have been indications I may be ultimately headed towards 6 and I do have my 6 days. I consider a full-fledged 6–full-time shaman or shamanist–to be a state that requires the ongoing support of a community to at least some extent and would be difficult or impossible to maintain while also holding down a job in the mundane world (which, face it, is something most of us do have to deal with). At the same time, however, we need to remember that in some indigenous cultures the shaman (or shamanic-type person) is not a full-time practitioner, but also functions as a working member of the “mundane” community either all or part of the time.  In our society, this is closer to the situation most mystics in the 5-6 range will find themselves in.

I will also state up front that there is absolutely no need for everyone–or even most people–in Heathenry to be even remotely mystical.  There do seem to be a greater number of mystics around, proportionately, than there were in elder Heathen days, one explanation for that being that the Gods, having been neglected for so many years, are tapping more people directly than They did when Their rites and worship were well-established.  However, most people need not have any sort of regular mystical practice in order maintain a healthy and productive religious life, and in fact for the average person a little bit of otherworldly contact goes a long way; in many cases, a lifetime of devotion can be fueled by one or two such experiences.  It could be argued that Heathenry (and perhaps most reconstructionist religions) needs the people who are at 2-4 on the “Siggy scale” more than we need the folks who fall between 4 and 6, because the former group are the ones who keep the traditions, rites and lore of a religion alive and in good working order.  (Sometimes, to be frank, we mystical types fall short in this respect.)  It could also be argued that the mystics are the heart and soul of a faith, because without regular otherworldly contact  (not just the occasional flash of it, but the continual daily effort to maintain it) any religion will quickly devolve into a dry, lifeless heap of meaningless lore and empty rituals.

That said, what does life look like for those of us who fall between 4 and 6 on the spectrum?  What do we have in common (at least in my own experience; as always, your mileage may vary)? What characterizes us and sets us apart (making us not better, merely different) from the 1-4 folks?

While our paths can vary a lot depending on Who we’re oathed to or closely involved with (for example, the path of a Wodenist tends to be more liminal and solitary, as a general rule, than the more community-oriented focus of a Freyr priest–to cite myself and Svartesol as examples), we have many things in common as well–too many to list in this one post, actually.  However, three things stand out in my mind as being the defining marks of a mystic in Middle Earth:

1. Focus. Those of us on the 4-6 spectrum tend to be heavily focused on the other worlds and their inhabitants, as well as on the spiritual reality underpinning Middle Earth itself, and this is often to the point of not being quite as well focused as we could be on the mundane happenings of the material world in which we (at least physically) live.  The Gods, spirits and other disincarnate beings (the dead, elves, landwights, etc.) we work with are as real to us and as much a part of our lives as the flesh-and-blood people around us (and sometimes more so).   The absent-minded mystic is becoming almost as much a stereotype as the absent-minded professor, and most of us do try not to come off as being completely flaky air-heads and work hard at being able to function effectively in our mundane lives.  But as with all stereotypes there is truth behind this one, and it arises from the fact that many of us are so focused on the other worlds that it’s harder for us to keep a firm grasp on our this-worldly surroundings and responsibilities.  Of course, being completely preoccupied with Over There 24/7 is not a desirable state of affairs in most cases (remember the bit about most of us needing to work day jobs, maintain a household, pay bills and buy groceries, etc.), but the otherworldly focus–whether enforced by our Gods and spirits, or as a matter of choice–is an identifying mark.  Most of us have our heads in the clouds; however, those who are truly skilled and well-grounded have our feet planted on the earth as well.  This last point is especially vital for those of us who function as Doors,  Bridges, or Gates, for obvious reasons; how can you act as a conduit between one place and another unless you are fully grounded in both?  However, the fact remains that for most of us the other worlds are as real–or more so–than this one, which sometimes makes for a tricky balancing act.

2. Commitment.  I often get asked for advice on how to maintain a mystical and/or devotional practice in the midst of a busy life, how to carve out the time for prayer, meditation, magic and trance work from a life already heavily burdened by work and other responsibilities.  My answer–and don’t get me wrong, this is an issue I struggle with continually myself, in addition to having chronic pain and fatigue issues that make it even more of a challenge–is always the same: make your spiritual work a priority, just as much of one as showing up at your paying job in the morning or running to the grocery store on Saturday.  Commitment to your practice means showing  up for yourself and your Gods and spirits, on a regular basis.  If you didn’t show up for mundane work, not only wouldn’t you get paid, but you would probably even lose your job after a while.  If you didn’t go shopping for food on a regular basis, there wouldn’t be anything in the house to eat.  If you didn’t pay your bills regularly, your utilities would get turned off and you’d eventually get kicked out onto the street.  Mystical practice is exactly the same as mundane life in the sense that diminished effort equals diminished returns.  Don’t expect to get a lot out of your practice when you aren’t willing to put a lot into it, and don’t expect to be able to maintain otherworldly relationships when you aren’t willing to put the effort into doing so on a regular basis. Even maintaining mundane relationships takes work and effort; how do you feel, for example, about so-called “friends” who never call or email you, never invite you to get together, and obviously aren’t interested in making you a priority in their lives?  We like to feel we’re important to the people in our lives, and this is demonstrated not through words but through acti0n (“We are our deeds,” as the famous Heathen maxim goes), through putting time and energy into a relationship.  Why assume the Gods and other spirits we deal with would feel any differently?  The principle of Gebo, a gift for a gift, is not only about the simple exchange of goods but about the dynamic two-way flow of energy that creates and maintains relationships.  To quote Woden Himself from the Havamal:

You know, if you’ve a friend whom you really trust
and from whom you want nothing but good,
you should mix your soul with his and exchange gifts,
go and see him often.
(Larrington translation, Poetic Edda)

Relationships take work; otherworldly ones, even more so.  Serious mystics know this, and our practice reflects it.

3. Investment.  Most of us on the 4-6 scale are heavily invested in the other worlds on a very personal level.  This may be because of a relationship (such as a God-marriage), a position or responsibility that has been given to us Over There, a demand made by our Gods for some specific reason, and/or all of the above, but we all have a stake in what happens Over There and in Who makes it happen, and many of us have duties to perform over there that are just as serious and demanding (or more so) as our mundane jobs.  Of course, we also all have our own very vivid experiences and gnoses regarding the finer details of all of the above, and these strong UPGs don’t always agree. This fact is what leads to the UPG wars we’re all so familiar with, in which mystics have been known to hotly debate the minutiae of otherworldly geography, politics, and interpersonal relationships to the point where fault lines form around these topics. I think that many of us, because of the intensity of our experiences Over There, expect the otherworldly landscape, cast of characters, and other details as we’ve experienced them to reflect what all other “genuine” mystics will experience, just as objectively as, say, our own experience of our mundane hometown will reflect that of everyone else who visits it.  Yet even in the mundane world, this is an unfair assumption; people have their own biases, triggers, and issues that cloud and shape their perceptions, even when dealing with so-called “objective” reality.  In the otherworlds, reality is much more fluid, and more apt to reflect what visitors expect to see and/or what they can deal with seeing.  This doesn’t mean that another mystic who experiences something differently from you is wrong or a fake because he has issues that may have played a part in his experiences, or that what you are seeing is 100% “accurate” because you think you don’t have issues (everyone does, even us “spiritually evolved” types; in fact, we often have more than other people, or at least we are more aware of them and more engaged in dealing with them).  Nor does it mean that the otherworlds are a “Disneyland ride” that shapes itself to the expectations and desires of every visitor.  The otherworlds are very real, dangerously so, and so are the wights who live there.  However, the fact remains that they are also both more fluid and less crystalized than what we encounter in the physical layer of Middle Earth, more apt to shift and adapt.  Scientists like to say that the observer is part of the experiment; in other words, the results of the experiment can be partly influenced and shaped by the person performing it in ways we don’t quite understand.  This is, I think, a pretty good analogy for the point I am trying to make about how the otherworlds can be affected by who we are and what we bring with us when we go there.

Of course, the above points can vary in intensity depending on where one is on the 4-6 continuum, but I think they are pretty much universal (and probably apply at least to some extent to mystics from other traditions as well).  In my next post, I plan to talk a bit about the different mystical paths (areas of concentration, if you will) within Heathenry.

- Valgrind