BeFriending Hela

With the sound of a howling wolf you release your last Breath and all that is left is silence.
Things come into motion as happens when someone has died. I’m sitting in a chair, holding your waistcoat like a child, cradling myself, tears falling from my eyes without sound. Then they take the waistcoat away from me leaving my arms and heart behind like an empty space.
When people are gone I walk towards the bed and all at the sudden while laying my hand on your arm a face appears in front of me, a life-threatening face, looking mean with ears made of sharp claws, grinning, ready to jump on me and to dig its claws deep in me. I am so scared but I keep looking at it because at that very moment my hand let me Know that it lays on an arm of a dead body and I realise that this frightening image is inside of me. And so I keep looking until it disappears.

When Fear has gone a Door is opened to another reality.

I now feel a sun shining warm in my face. It isn’t the sun from outside for I’m sitting with my back towards the windows. Turning my head I don’t feel the warmth anymore. Only when I Face it its there.
I ask my sister if she also feels this warm shining sun but she doesn’t.
This is your Gift to me.




“To watch the arrival of spring after a long cold winter is to know the Magic of Berkana.
To watch a mother dog push a runt from the litter and refuse to feed it is to know the Wisdom of Berkana.”
From: Runes Revealed by Ingrid Kincaid, The Rune Woman

The Wheel is turning and I am turning with it.
Wunjo – Berkana – Wunjo
Looking at these three I’m stunned. It is 5 months ago that I embarked on this Journey The Great Wheel with the Runes and drew Rune(s) for each Dark Moon and Full Moon during a Lunar Year.
For this period of time I drew Wunjo (and Jera) for the October Full Moon, Berkana for the October Dark Moon and Wunjo again for the November Full Moon.

Looking at them, at their shapes, one can see clearly a relationship between the two. What do they want to tell me?
Wunjo we can see as a Flag at the top of a Flagpole. Now, a Flag can be moved by the slightest breeze, and the slightest breeze can be the start of a storm.
Moving the Flag, Changing weather, also in our own lives.

Looking at Wunjo-Berkana-Wunjo I know that I will need the Wisdom of Berkana to finally come to understand how to move the Flag of Wunjo and, wanting to change the weather in my life, to bring it into motion myself instead of waiting for something or someone else to do so.

The Wisdom of Berkana, knowing what to push off, what to simply leave behind, what to nurture and feed.
Like the Bees do in this very time of year. Pushing off the Drones for the Good of the Hive, for the Hive to survive this upcoming winter to thrive again and come fully back to life again at the arrival of the next spring.

The Wheel is turning and I am turning with it.



This week was a busy week, one that asked me to think about this, about that, to not forget this and that, to take actions, being awake. My brain producing Beta Waves all the time to keep me awake and productive. Storm at night holding me back from long deep sleep.
And I noticed that I was longing for some quiet time, to go more within, that all this being without didn’t make me feel good, made me tired and irritated and all at the sudden Wunjo showed me how, when the little Kenaz is on top, I am fully awake, being in Beta State, when it goes down half stav, me going down into Alpha State, going down to the bottom, me going down into Theta State, the Dreamstate.

And this for me fits very well with what we can find on Internet as a meaning of Wunjo being a Blossom carrying twig. A blossom carrying twig, Blossom going into Bloom, Bloom into Fruition, Fruition into Decay, also different States of Being and that, yes, there is a certain time for all these phases.

The Runes over and over again show me the ongoing movement of Nature’s cycles, the ongoing changing of Nature’s Rhythms and I thank my body for being my Guide in this continuing Dance of different Rhythms and Timing.



(please scroll down for English)
De wereld is er stil van,
vandaag. Geen wind, geen regen, maar die typische stilte alsof de hele wereld zijn adem inhoudt.
Ik wandel met onze oudste hond van 11,5 en terwijl hij wat rond rent, geniet ik van de rust en, langzaam maar zeker, word ik me ervan bewust dat ik deel uitmaak van die rust, van de omgeving waarin ik loop.
En op het ritme van mijn passen ontstaan de woorden: Ik – Ben – Thuis (2,3,4), Ik – Ben – Thuis (2,3, 4), Ik – Ben – Thuis (…), Ik – Ben – Thuis

Today silence all around, no wind, no rain, only this typical stillness like the whole world is holding its breath.
I’m walking with our dog of 11,5 years old and while he is running around I am enjoying the quietness around me.
Slowly I become aware of being part of this quietness, of being part of the area I’m walking in and on the rhythm of my steps these words come forth:
I – Am – Home (2, 3, 4), I – Am – Home (2, 3, 4,), I – Am – Home (…), I – Am – Home


For English please scroll down

Na een week werken met Teiwaz en Jarnsaxa deze inspiratie:
Teiwaz = Isa (verticale lijn) en Kenaz (de letter v) omgekeerd op de top.
Een Staf met Vleugeltjes van Kenaz.
Draagster van de Staf “vliegend”, Vertrouwend, op haar Innerlijke Wijsheid en Weten en van daaruit haar waarheid spreken.

After a week working with Teiwaz and Jarnsaxa this inspiration came my way:
Teiwaz = Isa (vertical line) and Kenaz (letter v) up side down on top of it.
A Staff with Wings made from Kenaz.
A Staff Carrier “Flying”, Trusting, her Inner Knowledge and Wisdom and from that place speaking her Truth.


a href=””>I passed Christianity and re-entered the Land of my Pagan Ancestors.
Much is happening these days. So much, it can’t be caught in words yet.
With a few close Family Members I’ve visited Ancestral Places and so many things have been fallen into place in a way not to be expected.
Going down the line of registered Ancestors, what I find is that many of them, if not all, were very into church and that there was one special church of importance for my family, a so called Cross Church, a church with a cross shaped roof.

Today, in the midst of all the whirling, I all at the sudden had a moment of stand still and in the stillness of the eye of the storm I came to realise that I, during this time window between Full Moon and Dark Moon, this period in which I am so involved in my ancestral Journey, that I am working with the Rune Gebo, Gebo whose shape is a cross. Yes, it’s a different shape, but its a cross.

Not the cross of suffering and pain but one that whispers the many meanings of Gift and also “You Are The Gift”.
And in this very moment of holding the breath, Skadi is throwing the Arrow and I am following it beyond Christianity right into the Fertile Land of my Pagan Ancestry.
This Journeying Back into the Past has Gifted me a Welcoming Future.

The Missing Grandmother

Author: Tinah Bee

Sitting at the Well of Origin, that Pool of Wisdom, I ask: Where to find the Missing Grandmother.
Why is She missing in the world.
Why is She missing in my world.
I wrap myself around this question and listen and wait…..
What I hear is the sound of tinkling Ice, a Song so clear and still.
What I hear is the sound of tinkling Ice turning into the sound of melting Water. And the sound of melting Water is slowly changing into a soft Whispering, a Whispering that seems to come from all directions.
I wrap myself around the Whispers and wait….

Whispers of Water

I’m standing on a Path, the Woods behind me, Woods I just left after wandering around for years and years. Grandfather Oak stands in front of me and smiles at me.
“Welcome back”, he says.
“Come and sit with me and tell me about your adventures in the Woods”.
I sit down at his Foot leaning my back against his Trunk and a sigh is finding its way out before it allows words to come out.
“I have been wandering around for years and years, sitting at many Campfires of many Peoples. Meeting Grandmothers from different Cultures, from different Colors and different places. I heard a lot, I learned a lot. Stories, Songs and Dances. Ancient Wisdom seen through their Lenses. I learned a lot.
But while leaving the Woods all at the sudden I realized that I have missed one specific Fire, that I have missed one specific Grandmother, a Grandmother of the North, a white one. I didn’t found Her Sacred Fires. Did I miss it or don’t we have a Native Indigenous European Grandmother?”
Silence. “Grandfather, where is the Grandmother of the North, of my indigenous Heritage.”
“I cannot tell you where She is. You must find Her yourself. Rest a bit here and then continue your Journey. This Path will lead you into another Spiral of the Labyrinth of your Life. Only You can Walk that Spiral. Only You can Walk the Labyrinth of Your Life.”

tracks-in-the-snowAnd so after resting for a certain time I step back on the Path again, like a Cross-Country Skier stepping back in the Tracks again, to follow this Long and Winding Road, up and down and flat again, down and up and flat again, meandering like a river leaving debris on one side, showing erosion on the other side.
After a certain time I hear tinkling Ice again and the sound of melting Water. The Path widens and like a clearing in a forest there in front of me is an open space which sounds like a Cave, a large Cave.
Now I hear the sound of a burning Fire and a voice saying: “Welcome back. Welcome back. Come and sit with me by the Fire. Rest a bit and then tell me about your adventures in the Woods.”

And again I tell my story about my wandering around in the woods, sitting at many Sacred Fires, learning a lot and about missing one specific Fire, missing one specific Grandmother, She who dwells in the North.
How come that this Grandmother is missing in the world. How come that She is missing in my world.

“This Grandmother has never been missing in the world nor in yours. She has always been there. But many people are not looking into Her direction and so don’t see Her. She is not easy to find. She is not loud but silent. She is not spectacular but simple. She is hidden beyond Cultural Walls built from patriarchal Stones so one has to break down these Walls and has to dig really deep through snow and ice to get to Her. One has to reach beyond the war-like male dominant stories, songs, myths and legends to find Her, the Native European Grandmother, the white one. She belongs to the Circle of Indigenous Grandmothers but is mostly overlooked, forgotten, living so far away up in the very North. And who does like Cold and Darkness and is willing to set out on a Journey to find Her?”

“The Grandmother of the North has always been there.
Her Wisdom is Singing in your Blood, carved into your Bones, Woven into your Heart and Soul. She has been calling you and you finally heard Her and have followed Her Voice.
You can rest here as long as you wish and then I’ll send you back, back into the world. But before you go we will Sit by the Fire and I will Share the Secrets of the North with you. And I will offer you a Drink, the Mead of Memory, so that you will remember everything you’ve learned here when being back in the world. So it will be, so it will happen.”

I find myself back at the Well of Origin.
Do I still hear the sound of the burning Fire or is it the melting Water?
No, this sound is different.
What I hear is a Spinning Wheel.
Someone out there is Spinning the Threads and softly Singing a Song.
I listen and I hear a clear voice saying: “Good Morning, Granddaughter, welcome back” and a Spindle is laid in my hands.