Koleda beckons. The grandchildren of Stribog howl and Morena bites your bottom lip after a slow kiss goodnight. So the wheel turns over on a most sordid year, a bad seed. A year that will live on in the darkest corner of our collective imagination. Now a new one is being born from the forge of Svarog – but what will it be? What will it look like? Who will it call mother?
We no longer live in a world that pretends to love us. We live in a world that has declared war on us. Us? – Those who keep the flame of the Old Ways. Those who keep the flame to light the way for the ancestors. May they continue to visit our steads this winter. We need them now more than ever if we are to remember ourselves in the new world. We are no longer separated by First, Second or Third Worlds. We are the Fourth World. The oligarchs of consciousness plot their grand
stage left exit and will take the First World with them. The forces of Chernabog lurk behind the black mirror as I type. Eh… nothing a crash course in cyber security and a VPN with rotating IPs can’t solve.
On the surface the unremitting dance of the seasons twirls along like a Bolshoi ballerina – The Slavic people make prayers to Mother Earth crawling on her back – “Be still” she whispers ”A new sun will be born”. I’ve discussed here how my patrilineal and matrilineal ancestral lines have worked their trans-generational magic on me. The Kokić, from Serbo-Croatian “kokot” the rooster, a universal harbinger of the raising sun; and Vuković, from Serbo-Croatian “vuk”, the wolf that seeks to devour it. How does one reconcile the duality within themselves in world whose institutions of finance, government, culture, science and technology refuse reconciliation as a possibility? Moreover, is it possible that Perun may yet yield to the calls for peace, or that Veles might cease all provocation?
If our ancestors knew such a time, we no longer remember it. So call them now, summon the oldest of the lot. Only they know for sure what is what anymore. On this winter solstice do something unpredictable – decorate your tree/log with decaying forests stuffs instead of plastic nothings. Go to The Nutcracker and count the nuts in the audience. Listen to Wagner’s The Ring Cycle backwards. Bake bread in the oven of your heart. The days are young, so keep vigil for the sun as the twilight creeps. Embrace your family and friends – hold that embrace a little longer than would be considered polite. Eat until it hurts. Laugh until it hurts worse. Share a portion of it all with your gods.