Prayer to Sedna

I am so incredibly excited! Galina Krasskova, a Heathen author and spirit worker whose work I’ve admired for years, personally contacted me today, asking me if I’d be interested in writing the prayer to accompany stunning imagery for a prayer card of the Inuit goddess Sedna! Galina has been producing Pagan prayer cards depicting various artists’ lovely renditions of Deity images from different cultural pantheons–and Sedna is up next for production! Galina informed me that her partner told her about my devotion to Sedna–my deepest thanks to you, Sannion!–and of course I immediately replied that I would be honored to compose the printed prayer (below) in honor of the Sea Woman; it’s going to be published under my legal name.

"Sedna" by the late Susan Seddon Boulet. This is not the image going on the prayer card Galina is producing; it is one of my personal favorites, however.

“Sedna” by the late Susan Seddon Boulet. This is not the image going on the prayer card Galina is producing; it is one of my personal favorites, however.

Sedna, Mother of Plenty, my thanks to You for granting me this opportunity to share my devotion! I’m so happy I’m squealing like a narwhal!

 

Prayer to Sedna

Sedna, I honor You

I welcome You, I give You thanks

 

Praise to the Sea Woman, swiftly advancing, roaring

Uinigumasuittuq the Tormented

Survivor of treachery

Your severed fingers birthed new beings

O Nerrivik, Mother of Plenty

Sustenance for The People in exchange for observing Your pittailiniq (taboos)

 

But when the balance is broken, O One Who Halts Harpoons in Mid-Flight,

You rightly gather up Your children

And they sigh with relief

Not being made food for fools, You shelter them in Adlivun

As our sins choke the ocean with grief

 

Ravenous Sedna, Bringer of Hunger, harvest my whispered prayer:

Teach me to free You from the nets that suffocate—from the paralyzing

Plastic bags of past deeds deserving of punishment

May I bring You comfort, soothe Your flippers when they ache

And disentangle Your long, black hair, thereby dissolving strands of Memory

Until all that is known is the sea

 

Dread Goddess Sedna, have mercy on me

 

Sedna, I honor You

I welcome You, I give You thanks

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A Wonderfully Wyrd, Spiritually Synchronous Spring Equinox Weekend (Or, “Look, Ma! I Got Engaged!”)

What do you get when you combine a romantic weekend getaway at an out-of-state B&B (a getaway that you planned for your partner’s 32nd birthday); supreme hospitality and welcome from the genii loci as well as the human residents of a place you’re visiting for the first time; the energies of the Titan goddess Hekate; the energies of the Inuit goddess Sedna; the energies of All-Father Odin; the energies of the particular Elder Futhark runes Dagaz, Ansuz, and Gyfu; an amber ring; and the supremely potent cosmic “reset” button energies ushered in by Friday’s whopper of a total solar eclipse Spring Equinox? YOU GET ENGAGED, THAT’S WHAT! Continue reading

“A Deed Without a Name”: Spirit Possession, Sacred Service, and Sedna–OR, I Get By With a Little Help from my Helping Spirits

“I don’t get it,” Dan, my Bodacious Beau™, said as we carefully stepped our way across city blocks of ice-coated Chicago Park District sidewalk prior to descending to our subway platform this morning. “I don’t see how this serves you or benefits Sedna. What I see as the outcome of this kind of ritual is the toll it takes on you–physically, cognitively–you’re worn out this morning. You’ve basically lost your voice again, your vocal chords are so strained, and I can tell you’re still not fully grounded. And it’s not clear to me what Sedna gets out of this. What’s an Arctic deity doing in Chicago? But honestly”–and here he came to a complete stop in our walk–“I just find the whole thing scary.”

I stopped walking also and gazed eastwards across the vast expanse of snowy terrain claimed by this particular Park District on the northwest side of the city. The sun, slowly rising above a silhouette of tall buildings, looked like a frozen egg yolk trying to crack itself in a relentless vise grip of winter gray. I noted how my breath issuing from my nostrils hung in the air like a dragon–like Fafnir! I whimsically thought. But the morning’s 14 degree F temps were like a balmy paradise compared to yesterday’s abominable -4 degrees daytime high. It was the coldest day of (this tediously long) season thus far.

Minus the buildings, this landscape pretty much looks like the fucking Arctic right now, so why couldn’t this be Sedna’s playground too? But I kept that thought to myself. Instead, I replied to Dan’s statement with a question:

“What was it like this time? Compared to the sounds you heard coming from the temple room last November?” I had a feeling I’d be able to anticipate his response, but I had to hear him say it. I needed the confirmation.

Dan’s eyes widened as he slowly uttered his choice of words. “Way more intense. Definitely more violent-sounding, with a different range of sounds too. I was actually very worried about you but I know you’ve instructed me to never interrupt you when you’re in trance.”

I paused as I carefully chose my next series of questions, fearing rejection or humiliation even though my sensible Virgo/C3P0-like logical brain told me I had nothing to fear. After all, my partner, a ceremonial magician himself, has been an unwavering supporter of my method of trafficking with spirits–alien to him thought it might be in practice.

“What if I told you…that I didn’t journey to Sedna’s Underworld last night at all?” I slowly began. “What if I told you that no sooner did I begin drumming than She shot up through the floorboards and took control of me immediately? And that I, as a shamanic first, literally puked on my own chest and pissed my pants [insert the sight of Dan wincing here] when She did so? That She also brought a whole troop of spirits with Her and they’re all there in the room–blammo!–for good? That She’s now something like the tutelary deity of our temple space?”

The quallupilluit, vengeful water spirits of the Arctic with a solid track record of kidnapping human Inuit children when they venture too close to the water's edge.

The quallupilluit, vengeful water spirits of the Arctic with a solid track record of kidnapping human Inuit children when they venture too close to the water’s edge.

“I’d say I believe you,” Dan said somberly. “And I’d also say that even though you’ve got big cojones, you’ve got to be careful.” Continue reading

Serving as a Mouthpiece for Sedna: Last Night’s Shamanic Journey to Adlivun

Hrana Janto's stunning painting depicting the creation of sea mammals from Sedna's severed fingers hangs in my office. Check out more of Hrana Janto's goddess art on www.hranajanto.com.

Mutilation and Creation. Hrana Janto’s stunning painting depicting the creation of sea mammals from the Inuit goddess Sedna’s severed fingers hangs in my office. Check out more of Hrana Janto’s goddess art on http://www.hranajanto.com.

It is 30 degrees Fahrenheit outside my downtown Chicago office as I type these words. Like other sensible Chicagoans, for my morning commute today, I bundled up for the kind of bitter cold and biting winds that usually arrive in mid-winter, not pre-Thanksgiving. I was spiritually as well as physically ready for it, however, and I greeted the cold with glee this morning. You see, as soon as last week’s weather forecasts warned that the Midwest (and the Great Plains and Rockies) would be engulfed in “relentless November Arctic cold,” to borrow the words of one headline, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that Sedna, the great Inuit Goddess of the Sea and the Dead–sometimes just referred to as “the Sea Woman” by the Inuit for fear of invoking Her–was stirring and wanting to make Her presence known. Continue reading

Song for Sedna, Composed Upon Concluding a Shamanic Journey Before Her Newly Erected Shrine

Here’s my editorial note for this poem: I wrote it immediately upon coming back from a shamanic journey to meet with the goddess Sedna in the Arctic Ocean; I returned to an ordinary state of consciousness and grounded and centered myself with prayers of thanks to my helping spirits and with food. My relationship with the Inuit goddess Sedna began the day before I received word of my-then Archpriestess/mentor’s diagnosis of Creutzfeld-Jakob Disease (CJD), a horrible, lethal neurological disease that shut down her senses one by one and killed her within 8 weeks of her receiving the diagnosis. Sedna came to me roaring with rage that day, and in the coming weeks I would come to understand why. Again, I’ll be crafting a series of blog posts narrating how the Chicago Fellowship of Isis community banded around our beloved Deena Butta to help mitigate the devastating effects of this disease. Many prayed for Deena to have a complete and total “miracle-cure,” an absolute reversal of CJD. I, however, prayed for Her Highest Good, especially after Deena told me that she wanted to die so she could be reunited with her 22-year-old son Maris, who killed himself not quite two years prior. So much of Sedna’s grief and rage, as I would come to find out, were mirrored in Deena’s state of being in the final weeks of her life. Continue reading