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Interesting Times with Loki

When I was a little kid, I was "different", to put it politely.

I began reading and writing at the age of two, and used to amuse myself for hours on end with the Oxford English Dictionary on my lap, trying out new words.  I was never much for socializing with other children, and the only TV I was allowed to watch was Sesame Street (which I still love to this day) and Mister Rogers' Neighborhood, and occasionally MTV because I could sing along with the songs in perfect pitch (this is when MTV actually had music videos), and later, taught myself to play them by ear on the piano.

At the age of three, I started having recurring dreams of a one-eyed old man wearing a floppy hat and a windblown cloak, carrying a large wooden staff.  He never said anything, just watched me, but His face seemed to be soft, and sometimes He would pat my head.  Around the same time, I started seeing shiny little people in the flowers, plants, and trees.  Then one day I was playing with my Bert doll, and I saw Him.

He was tall, and thin, with flaming red hair, similar in color to my mom's and my brother's, but brighter.  He was smiling, and I liked His smile.

He came around frequently, much to the dismay of my mother, who was trying to get me to be more "normal".  He would tickle me, and say silly things, and I would watch Him change shape into different people and animals and objects (the best analogy I have for this is the character of Odo on Star Trek: Deep Space Nine).  We would dance together, and He was fond of my singing.  He seemed to be the only "person" who really liked me for me, and took an interest in me, since my family was quite dysfunctional.

My friendship with Him came to a head when I was in Catholic school for first grade.  He would suggest that I say things that would make me laugh, but make others upset.  I remember as clear as day asking my first grade teacher, a nun, "Why do you have a beard?"  My mom was not Catholic, but was nominally Christian, and I had a picture of Jesus on my wall.  I would come home from school and my mom would ask what I learned today.  When I told her, she would say, "Oh, that's not true," and teach me contradictory things, and then I would repeat her teachings in school the next day.  Between that and my "rude remarks", I was on "the thinking bench", every day, to think about my sins and repent, except I usually thought everything was hilariously funny.  After five months in Catholic school, I was expelled, and spent the remainder of the school year with a very nasty old biddy who slammed her yardstick down on my desk and made me wet my pants.

My solace was spending time with Him, talking and teasing and singing and dancing.  In the summer between first and second grade, I was put into special ed in part because of my insistence that these invisible things I saw were real and not "all in my head".  Special ed was absolutely horrible.  I didn't belong there, and worse, was marginalized by the "normal kids" for being in "the retard class".  During my year and a half in special education I was diagnosed with high-functioning autism, something I didn't find out about until 19 years later after I had suspected I had Asperger's Syndrome. I was mainstreamed in the middle of third grade because the other kids in my class were either MR or severely autistic, and they needed more attention than I did.  So I was put into a regular classroom, except the other kids knew I had been in special ed, and I was branded an outcast for the rest of my school career.

Things were getting worse at home.  My dad was getting more violent, and my mom was crying a lot.  When my dad went into one of his alcoholic rages, my Friend would find me and give me a big hug.  He promised that He would get me out of there.

In fourth grade, I was talking to my Friend at recess, and a group of kids threw rocks at me and chased me around the playground, calling me names.  That night at home, I told my Friend to go away, He was making me "weird".  He looked very sad, and He hung around me for a couple of days, but every time I saw Him, I told Him to go away, and finally He disappeared.

In the summer between fourth and fifth grade, my parents separated.  I was so ashamed of myself that it didn't occur to me my Friend might have made good on His promise to get me out of there.


When I was fifteen, I was in a very bad place mentally, and began studying Wicca as a way of getting "power" and changing my life.  Wicca being a Pagan religion, I also studied different mythologies and figured out Odin was the Old Man in my dreams.  I was a bit socially isolated and most of my Pagan contacts were Wiccans and among them I of course had not heard the word "Asatru", so I practiced in a Norse Wiccan context until I was nineteen, read the word "Asatru" for the first time, and began to learn about Heathenry.  In the year 2000 I dedicated myself formally as an Asatruar, and the first Asatruar to latch onto me were Folkish types, mainly because they knew I was dissatisfied with Wicca.  It's not that Wicca automatically equals "bad", but I wanted something more historically accurate, and I was quite tired of the poor scholarship of Wiccan books out there.

I was not ever very good at being Folkish, for a variety of reasons.  It seems after I became Asatru, the Gods took more of an interest in me, and spoke to me very loudly pertaining to "work" to be done.  I entered psychiatric treatment in 2002 for depression based in some traumatic experiences, except the "help" given turned out to do more harm than good, and I went from working full-time and living independently to becoming wholly dependent on government services because I was too much of a zombie.  In 2006 the tides finally started turning after I made a bargain with my patron God, Frey, and at the end of 2006 I moved out to Southern California and life has gradually been getting better, although it's been an uphill climb which is harder than a downhill tumble.

In 2006 I joined a Heathen organization but it was soon made abundantly clear that it was not right for me.  I began having dreams about my redhaired invisible friend, who said, "Guess who I am?" and I was afraid because Heathenry not only does not accept Loki as a Deity, but feels Loki is some kind of Norse version of Satan.  I didn't know what to think, but trying to avoid Him, and even threatening Him with runes (which amuses Him to no end to this day) was not making Him leave me alone.  By early 2007, I recognized that Loki was bothering me pretty hardcore, so I resigned from the organization, as I felt my honoring Loki was not accurately representing their beliefs, practices, and agendas.  I had already made several Lokean friends, which was something prior to 2006 I didn't know was possible ("you mean people worship Loki and they haven't been smote?  WHOA.") and then I discovered the Faeroese text "Loka Tattur", as well as the Anglo-Saxon word Saetere (meaning "robber", and a name for Loki), which many believe is the origin for the word Saturday.  I hailed Loki in Blot for the first time in March 2007, and have not looked back since.


Loki is a controversial figure in Heathenry, however, I get from Him what I cannot get from any other God, and that is drastic necessary change.  I also have a close relationship with His wife, Sigyn.  The most common argument against Loki is "He's the slayer of Baldur and Odin grieves."  It may be that Odin grieves, and we all grieve for the loss of the bright beautiful God from dwelling amongst the Aesir, however, I think Loki knew the only way Baldur could survive Ragnarok is if He was in Helheim, besides which, He may have wanted to cheer up His daughter Hela, separated from Her parents and driven out of Asgard, exiled to that realm in early childhood.  I think ultimately Loki was doing His (beloved) blood-brother a favor, ensuring the survival of the Aesir and peace for all people after the Ragnarok (which according to my UPG, no one really wants, but may happen anyway... or not).

If Loki hadn't shown up in my life, I wouldn't have had the childhood experiences that make me more tolerant and understanding of "different" people now.  And I wouldn't be in my current state of spiritual practice.  I would be another "more Heathen than thou" Asapope-in-training.  When I acknowledged Loki in March of 2007, He told me, "Once you start this, you are not going to be able to stop it, and you won't like where it initially takes you -- but you need this."  Two months later I was banned from a regional list meant for "all Heathens" without having ever mentioned Loki or anything woo, and rumors eventually got back to me that I am transsexual and routinely participate in "Gay BDSM Loki Orgies".  While I actively support the rights and happiness of the sacred ergi among us, I am biologically female, and apparently people are having way too much fun with Loki and not inviting me, and you would think that I as a Known Sex Pervert (by association) should be invited to these things.  The wank continued to escalate until I finally disassociated myself from the Asatru paradigm and decided to re-tool and re-focus my efforts on dealing with Neopagans as a whole, which includes Celts, Hellenes, and various stripes of Wiccans.  One of the ways I feel I went wrong with becoming Asatru was losing the joy and freedom I had as a Wiccan, doing rituals by the Moon and practicing magick.  It's Loki's chaos that won me this joy and freedom once again, and though the initial period of leaving Asatru was quite painful and showed me the true colors of supposedly honorable folk, I am better off now.

Loki has indeed taught me a lot of things about myself, and what the Gods want from me.  I choose to call myself Heathen though not Asatru, so I can present an alternative viewpoint for those who want to honor Team Norse without the wank of interpersonal political crap.  Which includes embracing Loki, and giving Him the honor He is due as a Deity who brings discomfort that leads to better things.

Hail Loki, one of the few Beings in any of the Nine Worlds to show me kindness and love.

(C) 2007 Sigrun Freyskona.