Rune Casting

    I am a Want-to-be Runecaster. I'm not entirely sure when one switches from attempting to be, and being, so it's probably best I don't just throw around the title. I started in late August of this year. I was inspired by my dear friend Patricia, who is a Tarot Reader. She read for my wife and me, and did a spectacular job. She's insightful and intuitive. Her passion and joy for reading inspired me, and I began looking into the culture and practice earlier in the summer.

    Through vetting several websites (my criteria involve active and welcoming forums, thorough essays on the topic, grounded language, and proper spelling and grammar.) I learned a lot, and was directed to a few different styles of readings. I let it go for a bit, and just let myself digest what I had learned and decide whether it was really something I should do. My wife and I were also getting ready for our wedding in early August, so that took most of my attention. It was a great wedding too. Easily the most beautiful day of my life.

    After we got back from the honeymoon, we were in a book store and I looked for some books on spirituality and readings. It was a big chain store, I'm sure I don't need to name names. The selection was weak, and kind of insulting in some ways. Why is a bestiary of the dark ages sitting next to a book on zen living? However, one thing did catch my eye, a book on runecasting. I didn't think I should buy the book itself, but the concept sang to me. I ran the idea past my wife, who supported the idea. Then I talked to Patricia about it, and she thought it was a good idea too. So, encouraged thus I began to look into runes with enthusiasm. After a couple of weeks, I came to the decision that yes, I would endeavor to learn this skill, and that I would do so by making my own set.

    This was so much fun, you don't even know. With my Father-in-Law's permission, I cut a branch off of the apple tree in his yard. I cut it into 30 (the  alphabet is 24 letters, but best to have spares) or so round pieces of similar size, debarked and sanded them. I studied the elder futhark, the runic alphabet, the Norse and Danish runes which I felt the most connection to both personally and ancestrally. I learned their shapes and meanings, and their relationships to one another. I wrote them down, over and over again. When I was ready, and had all of the necessary tools and materials, I began carving them. One by one, I carved them and meditated on them. I poured myself into each carving, feeling the meaning of what each rune needed to be. I then stained each rune with my own blood. There are a few reasons this is done. Some say that it prevents another person from leaving their psychic mark on the runes, or taking ownership of them. For me, it represents intent. It says to myself, and the Universe that I have done this, not half-heartedly, or foolishly, but with passion and intent, intent to reach certain goals, and to always reach for a higher plateau. I'm not here for a laugh (though interestingly, my runes have a sense of humour) or to play at it and toss them aside when I've had my fun, or when it gets difficult. As a result, I have a very strong connection to my runes.

      I have done readings for three people, aside from myself. Patricia was the lucky first recipient of my runecasting (not really "casting", but a layout. I'm working up to casting.) and it went well. I miss read the last rune, her future rune, which was embarrassing. The next two readings were less successful. I would say my biggest obstacle is getting over my shyness. It really impedes the reading, because I close up. It's like I have asthma of the personality. The next reading I do, I have to let go, and embrace the moment. I can't worry about what the querent thinks of me. That's what happens; I think to myself "Oh no, they're going to think I'm a big weirdo." Which is dumb, because if they really think it's weird, then they won't ask to have it done, and I do them a disservice by closing up and not doing it right. Which they will then think is weird.

    There is a lot I have to learn, and I am dedicated to learning. I know I'll make mistakes (with me, it is inevitable) but I'll keep going, and actually get skilled at something for once.

So I had this weird dream....

Usually when I have weird dreams, I just shrug them off, or at most have a chuckle over how silly or peculiar they are. This one was different, for some reason I can't really explain. Some of the details are a bit hazy, so bear with me while I do my best to recount what took place.

I remember walking around the grounds of a big stone castle. The castle was very tall, but had little to do with the dream, other than being a setting. The castle sat on a large flat ledge on sheer cliffs. So behind the castle, cliffs reached up beyond vision, and there were cliffs going down in front of the castle. I remember looking down the cliffs into darkness, but there were many waterfalls and tiny ledges. At one point I fell down, and had to climb back up, which was surprisingly easy.

All over the grounds different deity's walked around. No one told me this, it's just one of those things you just know in a dream. They didn't look glamorous or powerful, just regular people, but I knew them to be gods or at least beings more powerful than myself. Most of this dream left me in an observational point of view, and not taking part. I was like an invisible spectator. I saw two gnomish looking gentleman talking, and felt compelled to eavesdrop. They were short in stature, and had long beards. One had a brown beard and the other had a white beard. They seemed extremely melancholy, and talked about how it was nearly time. The brown bearded one seemed reluctant to continue with whatever their plan was, but the white bearded chap argued that they had no choice. They seemed to resign themselves to this doom, whatever it was, and I felt how terribly sad and afraid they were. They went and sat by a brook that led to a waterfall off the cliffs. They washed their hands and faces, and once again the brown bearded chap needed encouragement to continue. They both seemed to agree that what they were doing was a) wrong, b) damning them, and c) unavoidable. The pain they felt and I shared was heavy.

Then a young girl approached them. She was probably between eight and ten years old and had the look of a princess without being gaudy or pretentious. Just extremely calming and wonderful to be around. The bearded chaps seemed happier to see her. She told them it was time, and the pain came back, but they nodded agreement. They went to either side of her, each grabbing one of her arms with both hands. They took her to the brook and drowned her. It was terrible. Not that it was graphic, or violent (she didn't even struggle, and the poor bearded chaps wept so hard) just terribly sad. She floated down the brook face down and over the side of the cliff she went.

At that moment there was a flash above the castle, and a shout. The three of us looked up and saw a woman, clothed in a soft pink gown slowly flying down from the parapets. Her wrath was terrible, and as I looked into her eyes I knew that I was no longer a passive spectator. She came down on us with such anger, and such hatred. None of us fled, though I wanted to. The bearded chaps just stood there, weeping and waiting for their punishment. I was going to protest, and claim my innocence in the matter, but I couldn't, or wouldn't. I seemed to know that she would not listen, and that somehow I was guilty.

Things got hazy around there, in my memory at least. I remember coming back to my body, where I was sleeping in bed, and drawing power from myself. I remember being sucked back into the dream, but being told by either myself or my cat, Nimue, to remember something. I think it was the power I had just grabbed.

I came back to the queen, but now we were in a car, and I was the little girl. The queen and the two bearded chaps were in the car, the queen driving. I remembered my power then, and all I could think to do was push out with it. Pink and blue bolts of lightning filled the car, and I remember the brown bearded chap smiling, and the white bearded chap trying to stop me. The queen screamed at me, and I was so afraid of her and felt so small that all my power drained.

It was snowing, and I was wearing a snowsuit, while the others wore coats and toques. We stopped to get gas. The queen made the bearded chaps wait in the car to watch me. They stared at me. The white bearded one told me that this was fate, and we could not escape it. I looked at their sad eyes, and again remembered my power. A thought entered my mind, that was overwhelming. Nothing could stop me from walking away. I opened the car door and got out. They didn't try to stop me. The queen came after me, but I climbed over a steep snowbank and disappeared into the storm, while she screamed and raged behind me.

Then I woke up. That's it.

More happened, in different spots in there, but I can't remember.