Neolithic Shamanism: Spirit Work in the Norse Tradition - Raven Kaldera 2012

The Silver World: Moon

Hail to the Moon that rides the night,

Hail to the Watcher in the dark window,

Hail to the silver beams on the rippling water,

Hail to the white dogs and the shining track,

Hail to the one who sends us inspiration.

The Moon, like the Sun, has been called upon since wolves began to howl at it. Paleolithic humans probably used the Moon for gauging time, as its convenient cycle of 29.5 days is always easily marked in even a partially clouded sky. The oldest lunar calendar ever discovered dates to the Aurignacian period of the Paleolithic era, approximately 32,000 years ago. It is a series of Moons, from Crescent to Full, carved in a snakelike line on a piece of bone. It is conjectured that these small, lightweight, portable calendars were carried on hunting trips or other journeys as a way of clocking how much time had passed. Nomadic early humans relied more on the phases of the Moon than of the Sun; the first solar calendars did not appear until the Neolithic era, when agriculture required a yearly planting-and-harvesting cycle.

There have always been Moon Gods, in every religion and pantheon. In the Northern Tradition—both the Iron Age beliefs that inform modern Heathenry and Northern Tradition Paganism and the Paleolithic to Bronze Age beliefs that inform this shamanic tradition—the Moon is male. In modern Paganism, the Moon is seen as female to the point where the idea of a masculine Moon makes eyebrows raise. There are as many male Moons as female ones—in Egyptian, Sumerian, Japanese, and some African mythologies, to name just a few—but because of the link between female menstrual cycles and the lunar cycles, modern Pagans associate lunar energy solely with femaleness. Part of this is also cultural, drawing from classical Greco-Roman assumptions about maleness being rational and femaleness being irrational; we have seen both men and women attempt to link this to the disorder of PMS.

However, in the Northern Tradition, things are subtly reversed. The irrational is associated with maleness—Odin is a berserker god and a deity of the wod, or divinely inspired altered states; Fenris is the force that devours everything; Loki is the trickster who seems not to always know why he does things; Frey is the lover who becomes obsessed and will give up anything for the beloved; Thor’s mighty rages and wild dancing joy create the storm (as opposed to the Greco-Roman Zeus/Jupiter, whose thunderbolts are much more calculated). In contrast, Odin’s and Thor’s goddess-wives, Frigga and Sif, are civilizing forces; Fenris’s sister, Hela, the death goddess, is cold and controlled; Frey’s bride, Gerda, is quiet and self-contained; and Loki’s second wife, Sigyn, is nurturing and soothing (although his first wife, Angrboda, defies the pattern). Sunna, too, is a direct female force that casts bright, revealing light instead of the soft, obscuring light of her wayward, wandering brother, Mani. For anyone who has met the Moon god Mani, though, it’s almost impossible to think of the Moon as solely female again.

The Moon has eight phases, and lunar energy acts differently on each phase. During the New Moon (or Dark Moon, as some call it), the lunar spirit is renewed, childlike, shy, full of wonder. As the Moon waxes into a crescent, the lunar spirit picks up speed and becomes enthusiastic and playful. The Crescent Moon may also manifest as a Warrior’s Moon, with Mani keeping his weapons at the ready. On the Waxing Half-Moon, self-doubt and conflict appear. On the Gibbous Moon (the Waxing Three-Quarter Moon), the feel is one of ingenuity and learning to climb out of trouble. On the Full Moon, the lunar spirit blossoms and the energy is at its peak, washing over everything. While the lunar energy is strongest at this point, it is not necessarily attuned to a human wavelength, and it may be difficult to get the Moon’s attention.

On the Disseminating Moon—the Waning Three-Quarter Moon—the lunar spirit turns outward and looks down upon the world and its people. This is actually the best time to make a connection, because the focus has changed from internal to external. On the Waning Half-Moon, more conflict and doubt appears, this time over the suffering in the world. This is a good time to ask for lunar help and aid with your problems, because the Moon is most compassionate during this period, and during the Waning Crescent or Balsamic Moon, which is next. This is the “old wise Moon,” ready to go once again into the darkness and be reborn.

Raven: I first came to the Moon as an astrologer, and that still shows—for me, the Moon’s cycle is a sacred thing that dances through twelve signs and eight phases, rotating in thirteen lunations until it catches up with the Sun in nineteen years and change. I did a lot of Moon-gazing to learn about the Moon. Since I am primarily a nocturnal creature due to my lupus condition, which won’t let me spend time out in the Sun for very long, I do a lot of things by moonlight. Living away from the city, the Moon’s light is not compromised by light pollution, and I can move in that silver light with impunity. Sometimes it is so bright as to be almost daytime, but his soft light never burns me. I’ve lived with the Moon in the sky for so long that I can now do a fast calculation in my head—“It’s the Waning Quarter, and the Sun is in Aries, so that puts the Moon in Capricorn, so that’s the Miser’s Moon, and I’d better remember to be generous to my friends . . .” The Moon’s information isn’t obscure and difficult to read like the stars. It’s right there where anyone can see it, even through partial cloud cover. The Moon loves people close up.

Galina: I came to the Moon because I fell in love with Mani. I’ve had the opportunity, in a yearly ritual for the past few years, to allow him to possess me. (Deity possession, or “being ridden,” carrying a god or spirit like a horse carries a rider, is a specific skill that takes inborn wiring to do safely and well. It involves allowing a deity to push one’s consciousness aside, wear the body like a garment, and interact directly with his or her devotees.) During the brief period where he was settling himself in my body, before I went down into unconsciousness, I experienced full-on the gentle yet compelling power of this god. I emerged utterly besotted. I became a fervent devotee. I maintain a shrine to him in my home, delight in his nightly presence in the sky, pour out regular offerings and celebrate his beauty and power regularly. He has watched over me and guided me home and kept me safe, and he blessed my mother before she died. My connection to the Moon comes not through astrology or astronomy or menstruation or tides. It comes specifically through love for Mani. The other things are useful because they are avenues through which I might be able to better connect to him. That is all. May he be hailed.