Hospitality and the Border

One of my favorite little exercises when dealing with complex ideas is to figure out how to represent said ideas with simple symbols. It helps me clarify my thinking and get down to the most fundamental part of a concept that I can.

I’ve done this with all of the ADF’s Nine Virtues, and the symbol I use for the virtue of Hospitality is a key. Because really, Hospitality is the key to everything.

And America’s legendary Hospitality, as enshrined by Lady Liberty herself, is being sorely tested at our southern border.

The plaque of "The New Colossus", mounted to the pedestal of the Statue of Liberty.

The plaque of “The New Colossus”, mounted to the pedestal of the Statue of Liberty.

The dance of Hospitality between guest and host is a sacred one, a series of steps that ensure every movement apart will be followed by another chance to connect. To be hospitable is to make space in our lives for the experiences, insights, and feelings of O/others. Because of that, Hospitality is the key to every other virtue, is the key to the Three Realms, and is the key to interacting with E/everyone outside of ourselves.

Like most dances it’s also a joy when your partner knows the steps too. We in the US are stumbling hard during this particular dance, have been stumbling, and now we’re falling to the floor.

If we can’t dance the dance of Hospitality with other human beings, how can we ever hope to tred those steps with the Powers? How can we hear the whispers of the Gods when we close our ears to the screams of fellow human beings? What is a religious life, without Hospitality as an anchor and a shield?

As a human being I am horrified that children who came to us for safe haven are instead sobbing in terror on our southern border. As an American I find every justification for this horrorshow – as if traumatizing children is ever justified! – self-serving and hateful. And as a polytheist I find myself sickened by those using religion to support the infliction of said trauma.

The ADF has issued a statement of their own. Here it is, in full.

Statement from the Mother Grove:

The Mother Grove is aware of and concerned about the safety of families, both within ADF and in the communities around us.

At ADF, we look to our virtues as guiding principles, and the one that comes to mind is hospitality. We support safe environments for families, both within ADF and in the world in general. We see hospitality as acting as good guests and good hosts, both as members of the ADF community and as citizens of the world.

We cannot condone the separation of families, be they for political, religious, racial, or other reasons, that endanger the sanctity of family life, and put children in danger of being taken from their parents (except in instances where the children are at risk of harm or peril). We look to leaders everywhere to assure that families are kept together whenever issues relating to families or the movements of families arise. We ask this through the notions of national and international hospitality that come to bear when families are involved.

I am proud to see the ADF take a stand on this issue that mirrors my own. Here’s hoping the US will follow the examples of the ADF, other faith organizations, several state governors, and a large majority of the American people to reverse this disastrous policy and once again connect with people beyond our own limited perspectives and and national borders.

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The Origins of Arianrhod

As most of y’all know I’ve been exploring Proto-Indo-European religion via the ADF. It’s been quite the ride so far, but perhaps nothing has been as meaningful for me as my new and deeper understanding of my Lady, Arianrhod of the Silver Wheel.

Arianrhod shows a different face to me than others seem to see. I’ve never known why, exactly, but finding people who see Her the way I do is one of the reasons I started blogging in the first place. It’s been a lonely road.

My PIE studies may have led me to some answers, although those answers kick off a whole other range of questions.

The Quest

I’ve been pretty open about my Lady and how the way I honor Her is different – sometimes wildly – from the standard stuff associated with Her. Stars yes, moon no. Fire is Her primary elemental association with me, and lore-wise She’s rarely associated with fire at all. Her being the vehicle of manifestation from potential isn’t referenced anywhere except a VERY loose read of the Welsh Triads, and I give that primary emphasis while most folks working with Her seem to ignore it completely. Ritual and petitionary prayer yes, magick not really. Rites of Passage yes, mystic moon mommy (or any other life stage) no. Her representation on my altar has been an armillary sphere, representing atomic/cosmic/universal order, and I haven’t seen that anywhere in relation to Her. And on and on it goes.

As a result my work with Her is different from pretty much everyone else’s. The difference is so stark that I’m often uncomfortable in public rituals involving Her. It usually feels like calling for my mom and having someone entirely different show up.

So, of course, as I started walking a more Proto-Indo-European path I started looking at Arianrhod through a PIE lens too. Could that lens maybe help explain why She’s so different with me than with others?

Following Breadcrumbs

PIE practices are, at core, based on linguistic reconstruction. It’s an academic approach encoded in the very language we speak.

So I started searching for the origins of Arianrhod’s name.

The first breadcrumb I found linked Arianrhod to a reconstructed PIE goddess named Arta. Arta is apparently the goddess of universal order and is specifically linked to cycles and time, as well as rites of passage.

That started clanging bells hard, so I started chasing more threads to see if they could add any information or clarity.

The PIE root of Arianrhod’s name is also linked to the Vedic idea of Ŗta (an obvious link to the name “Arta”), which refers to that which upholds and maintains the Wheel of Dharma (another wheel, and here meaning righteous law) and the order of the universe. That just plays right in with everything else.

The root of Arianrhod’s name in Proto-Indo-European is also shared by Varuna, a Vedic god associated with sky,  water, justice, and truth.

Varuna’s connections to sky and water brought to mind Arianrhod’s homes – according to which sources we credit, Her home is either in the Corona Borealis (sky) or in the sea off the coast of Wales (water). Or both.

Varuna’s streak of demonic violent tendencies, according to myth, led to His demotion and Indra taking away most of His powers. That reminded me of the gist of Arianrhod’s story, where responses to Her behavior led to Her losing Her place. It also reminded me of the “test of truth” in Her story (stepping over Math’s staff) and the justice or perceived lack thereof in the challenges She set Her son.

Varuna is called upon to this day to still the waters of the mind, bringing calmness and peace. This is strongly reminiscent of Arianrhod’s focus (with me) on centering and balance, although it’s not part of Her general lore. Up until very recently I also based my entire Wheel of the Year on the image of a stone dropping into a still pond and the ripples resulting from that, which brings that water connection to the fore. The rings made when a stone is dropped in a pool also reminds me of the rings in an armillary sphere, which pulls all of those associations back around again.

All of that led me to the Zoroastrian concept of asha, which shares the same PIE root as Arta and thus Arianrhod. Asha is linked to fire, truth, manifestation, cosmic order, and right action/right working.

All those things I honor with Arianrhod that didn’t make sense? That seemingly came out of left field and didn’t gel with anything about Her in common practice? They’re connected to Her linguistically. THIS is the goddess I’ve been working with! It even explains why the first goddess She had me work with that wasn’t Her was Hestia! Hestia’s damn near a direct continuation of the Proto-Indo-European goddess Wéstyā, who was the heart of PIE worship, so it makes sense that Arianrhod/Arta would guide me there.

Where to now? 

I am no linguist, and I’m certainly not an expert in this field. I also have no idea what to do with this information in a broader sense, or how to answer all the questions raised by it. The primary book I have on reconstructed PIE practice doesn’t even mention Arta. And yet here we are, here am, and and here is all this information that gels with what I’ve been shown even if I could never explain why. It’s at least a start at verifying my UPG.

Are Arta and Arianrhod the same deity? Am I working with a long forgotten face of Arianrhod, or a newer face of Arta? Have I been working with Arta this whole time under Arianrhod’s name (maybe because Arianrhod was more accessible)? Is Arianrhod simply Arta viewed through a Welsh filter? Does any of this relate to why I’m so solidly Hers, yet She’s the only Celtic deity I’ve ever been called to honor?

I have more questions than I have answers, but I have what may be a direction to follow, and hope that I will eventually find more information that relates. That’s more than I’ve ever had before. I’m excited to see what else I can learn!

Welcoming the Sisters – Dawn and Dusk Devotionals

Devotional activities can run the gamut from simply sharing tea with the Powers to performing full-on choreographed theatrical productions. I leave the theater to the High Days. I prefer something much more low-key for daily devotions, and over time I’ve learned that it’s best if they’re tied to some activity I’d already be doing anyway. It’s also the best way I’ve found to seamlessly integrate devotions, and thus honoring the Powers, into my day-to-day life.

I’ve discussed mealtime offerings before. Now it’s time to talk about offerings for dawn and dusk. Like mealtime offerings, they’re fairly quick and easy. They’re also way more meaningful than we might otherwise think.

The Herald of Dawn 

The dawn goddess pops up all over the Indo-European world, indicating that She was very important. In fact, the case can be made that She was the most important goddess of the Proto-Indo-Europeans. She’s certainly the most easily reconstructed!

The PIE name She’s given in Deep Ancestors is Xáusōs, or “Rising”. PIE-descendant cultures honored Her too: She appears as the Greek Eos, the Roman Aurōra, the Vedic Uṣás, the Lithuanian Aušrine, and the Germanic Ōstara.

The ubiquity of Her worship in the ancient world makes total sense for a traveling, migratory people. After all, no matter where you go She still appears in the east to open the Gates of Dawn and usher in the coming day. PIE-descended hearth cultures sometimes associated Her with spring, too, as the dawn of the planting season out of the chaotic Fallow Time.

Which brings us to the topic of liminality. Honoring the dawn was incredibly common because it was a transitional, liminal period.  And that made it dangerous.

We hear the most about the ambivalence of betweens from Celtic tradition, but the care necessary when navigating treacherous liminal spaces is part of all PIE-descended cultures. Dawn is a between, a transition zone between night and day, and as such it’s a dangerous opening through which chaos could enter the world. By opening and closing dawn’s gates, though, the dawn goddess controls and safeguards that opening. She’s on the front lines, defending existence itself against the agents of chaos.

The Goddess of the Dawn, in all Her pastel glory.

Pretty heavy stuff for a Goddess almost invariably shown clad in pastel rainbows.

In the Vedas She (as Uṣás) is also associated with prosperity. We see that with the Germanic Ōstara too, through a connection to the fecundity of rabbits and chickens. Every new dawn brings us a new chance for success, prosperity, and acclaim in our lives.

The dawn goddess also illuminates and “wakes up” the world with Her coming. Because of that She pushes back the darkness of the unknown and heralds the coming of enlightenment, strength, action, and activity. She energizes and inspires us.

With all of that in mind it makes sense to respect Her and Her role in the world with every new day that dawns.

Twilight’s Mistress

I’ve been using Deep Ancestors as my primary guide to exploring PIE religious practice. It’s what inspired me to start working with the dawn goddess Xáusōs in the first place. The more I did, though, the more frustrated I got. It felt incomplete.

Celtic lore holds that dusk is just as much a between as dawn, just as dangerous. Dusk too is a liminal time. Simply ignoring the danger inherent in an unguarded liminality seems entirely out of character for the Proto-Indo-Europeans, especially considering the emphasis they put on guarding dawn. However, the surviving lore doesn’t mention the dawn goddesses pulling double duty here. Who guarded the gates at twilight?

So I did some research.

In Vedic lore, the dawn goddess Uṣás has a sister goddess called Ratri. Ratri is usually seen as a quieter, more restful figure than Uṣás. Still beautiful, spangled with stars as She is, but more reserved. She protects us against all night-time dangers, guarding the earth as it sleeps. She’s also associated with dewdrops, and together with Uṣás is said to boost vital energies.

Uṣás and Ratri together are considered “weavers of time and mothers of eternal law”, and in their progression illustrate the cohesion of the created order that sustains the earth. I found that rather significant to PIE practices in general, personally.

We get something similar from the Baltic region, where we have another set of sister dawn/dusk goddesses – Aušrinė and Vakarinė. Aušrinė (associated with the Morning Star) saw the sun goddess off on Her journey through the sky every morning, while Vakarinė (associated with the Evening Star) made Her bed every night.

Another example is found in Slavic lore. The Zorya are yet another set of sister-twins. The first – Zorya Utrennyaya, or the Morning Star – opens the gates to the Sun Palace at dawn. The other – Zorya Vechernyaya, or the Evening Star – closes the gates to the Sun Palace at dusk.

In addition to these duties the Zorya are together the guardians of a winged doomsday hound named Simargl. If Simargl breaks the chains binding him to the northern star Polaris, he’ll eat the constellation of Ursa Minor and end the world. Like Uṣás and Ratri, the Zorya are crucial to maintaining universal order.

The Roman goddess of the dawn, Aurōra, doesn’t have a twin sister. However, She was married to Astraeus, the god of dusk, and together They birthed the four winds. In an interesting link to the Baltic and Slavic lore, Astraeus was also seen as the father of the five “wandering” stars, one of which is the Morning/Evening Star Venus (not to be confused with the goddess of the same name, although there might be some syncretism there). In another interesting link, the Zorya sisters were also collectively called the Auroras.

There’s just too much material here for me to ignore. I’m perfectly comfy moving forward with the idea that there once was a god(dess) associated with twilight who has been lost over the years. I’m also perfectly comfy with considering that deity to be a female sibling, if not an outright twin, of Xáusōs.

I needed a name to call Her, though, since whatever the PIE peoples might have called Her has been long forgotten. After oodles of searching I finally broke down and contacted the author of Deep Ancestors,  Ceisiwr Serith, with a plea for assistance. I simply don’t understand PIE language and linguistics well enough yet to figure this out for myself. He graciously helped – even showed his work with verb conjugation so I could follow! – and suggested “Négwntī”.

This name has a lot going for it. Xáusōs means “Rising”, while Négwntī means “Becoming Dark”. They mirror each other nicely in translation. I also like that both are verbs, action words, because for me that really brings home the fact that They represent a process instead of something static. They embody abstract concepts of Time, Cycles, and Order. So Négwntī’s what I decided to go with.

Welcoming the Sisters

I honor three goddesses as part of my daily devotions, in addition to my Lady.

First of those is Wéstyā, the Proto-Indo-European goddess of the hearth. I honor Her with the mealtime offerings I introduced in a previous post. She helps us maintain order in the domestic sphere, in our homes and families and day-to-day life.

I also honor Xáusōs and Négwntī – They who maintain the progressive order of Night into Day and Day into Night. I love the way they bookend everything. My shrine reflects that.

My kitchen shrine.

My kitchen shrine. To the left is the teacup and saucer used to honor Xáusōs, in the middle is the statue before which I make offerings to Wéstyā, and to the right is the cup and saucer for Négwntī. I’m debating switching the cups around, to reflect the sun rising in the east, but I haven’t decided yet.

Morning Offerings

When I wake up I take care of my immediate needs, walk my dog, and blearily try to activate my brain. Prior to now, my waking up process has been sitting in front of my computer with a cup of tea until the caffeine jolts my system awake.

Now I wake up with tea (coffee would work too) and Dawn’s Lady instead.

It’s really simple. I set up Her cup and saucer, fix the tea, fill Her cup, and say the following over it:

Good morn to You, Herald of the Dawn!
I welcome Your rising as I welcome sun’s glory. 
May I meet all on my path with
An open hand, an open heart, and an open mind. 
Praise to Your name, She Who Opens the Way!

Then I fix a drink of my own, sit down, and quietly think about my day as I wake up. No computers, no distractions, just communing. It takes around 15 minutes.

When I’m done, I empty and wash the dishes I used and return them to their places.

Evening Offerings

Evening offerings follow the same pattern as the morning. Instead of going for the caffeine, though, I go for a nightcap. It’s usually something like Egyptian licorice or chamomile tea.

Whatever it is, I set that to brewing while I prepare Négwntī’s cup and saucer. Then I pour Her a cup, over which I say the following:

Good eve to You, Twilight’s Lady!
I welcome Your presence as I welcome night’s repose.
May You guard my sleep and guide my dreams
That I awaken refreshed and renewed when next I rise

Praise to Your name, She Who Closes the Day!

After that I quietly sip my own cup and cuddle my pupper – without computers or books or anything else – as I calm down enough to sleep. Sometimes that takes another cup of tea, and that’s ok. Whenever I’m ready, though, I clean the dishes I used and return them to their places.

By doing simple devotional activities at dawn, for meals, and at dusk I do up to five devotional activities per day. They’re so simple, though, and so integrated with what I’d already be doing, that I do them with a sense of joy instead of feeling obligated or pressured.

And that – prioritizing joy over pressure – is to my mind the key to regular devotional work. I don’t even have to memorize anything! As with my mealtime offering prayers, the prayers for Xáusōs and Négwntī are written on little cards I can just read off (which is especially handy before my morning caffeine!).

What might/does work for you? I’d love to see your takes in the comments!