Tag Archives: Byggvir

A Month for Freyr: Byggvir and Beyla

I associate Beyla with honey, more than her other etymological possibilities. Also the color of the firelight on the wood inside the house, which is a warm yellow-brown. She is very fond of cooking and taking care of people with food. I don’t need to eat elsewhere, but it troubles her if I don’t eat twice during any full length of day time when I’m there and I know she worries and fusses about it because she cares.

They both have a mild parental view toward me — since Byggvir said he’d been with Freyr for most of Freyr’s life, it makes sense that they would be vaguely parental toward both him and his lovers who stay in his home.

Byggvir was accused of being a coward in Lokasenna, but he’s behaved protectively toward me. I associate him (for some reason) with early spring/late autumn greens, like kale, which are resistant to cold weather and a rich, dark green, and I also associate him with iron. Particularly the smell of it.

I was having a fair amount of trouble with someone when I went there once, and he took me aside and told me that if I needed someone to deal with it for me, he would take care of it.

They are an important part of my life, though I do not see them as often as I think I should. I would like to set aside some time to get to know them better.

I am weary of the lack of space I have to do anything, here. And I am wondering if a virtual space would be better, until after we’ve found new housing. It feels strange, the idea of creating  a non-physical space for them and the other people I am getting to know, but the time I spend with them is non-physical, as well.

When I was idly looking at sea shells after coming across a website about sea hearts, I got a prodding that someone would like shells. I kept thinking it was Freya, but Frigga’s name kept popping into my head. It turns out that most shells are not that expensive, so whomever would like some nicer shells, I can hopefully make it happen eventually.

I did buy plants, despite the lack of space issues, while I was at the greenmarket on Tuesday. Three varieties of sansevieria, a type of moss, a striped aloe, an unknown plant in muted autumn colors, and another unknown plant that has white veins. They were all shockingly inexpensive.

I thought that, with the space problems, and the difficulty in burning candles in the summer because of the fans, the plants could be a living altar. Freyr, and all of the plant spirits. I feel better, even crowded in here with an entire wall full of someone else’s disorganized books and more shelves above the bed with the same.

I had a collection of sansevieria about four years ago, but while I was away, only one of them survived never being watered by the person I’d asked to look after them. I also lost the collection of spider plants that I had except for one, as well. But spider plants are not usually as expensive as sansevieria and that really was a lot of money. However, at the greenmarket, I replaced two of the species I’d lost and got one I’d wanted but never had, for something like $14. Two 4″ pots and one 6″ pot. It blows my mind. Maybe it is also a wedding present!

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Sexuality In Evolution: One Post of Many

Last night, I was looking at custom-made double-sided necklaces and going through their symbols. Idly. I had been thinking of getting a rune pendant from etsy and wearing that after we were married because we’re very short on money, and getting a ring later, or something else. But his attention leapt up and it was very obvious that This was the thing he wanted me to have. They had a boar with a celtic design around the outside, and he liked it, so I was looking for something for the reverse sign that would hopefully represent something along the lines of love or devotion.

He liked the flaming heart, which I kept trying to change his mind about, or choose the alternate interpretation.

It symbolizes burning passion, love, desire, ardent affection and burning love. In Christianity the flaming heart is a symbol of sacrifice, higher love, grace and mercy.

I was increasingly uncomfortable. The latter definition is lovely and something I can relate to entirely. But he meant the former, with the latter as part of it (those are traits I work on constantly both as a Buddhist and because it is who I want to be), but not the point, necessarily. Not what he wanted me to wear.

Finally he said, very clearly, “Why are you so afraid of your sexuality?”

It felt like being pinned through the chest like an insect, suffocating in chloroform.

TW: rape
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Salt is antiseptic

Waves crash against the cliffs near the azure ...

My old love found me, and we fell together like crashing waves falling back to the sea. Both of us a quarter of a year splattered to cliff-face. Enough tears for a small sea between us, pooling on our chests, getting lost in my salt-damp hair.

We spoke of Freyr, of course. He tells me he cannot possibly hope to compare to a god in any way, and recites the litany of this year. I did not go looking for a god, and as one of Brand’s friends said to him, there are not many people who are willing to let gods be people, and so I am interested in Freyr as a person, not a deity. If he must compare himself with someone, he is comparing himself with another person, who has their own flaws, like anyone does.

I spoke about him to Freyr, who said similar things, phrased very differently; how can he compare to someone I have loved for so long and so deeply that I married?

Somewhere in the middle of this, I was saying to both that they were not the same person and I did not feel the same way — of course I did not feel the same way — but why would I want to, and why would they want me to?

I have, in this month of courtship, fallen in love with Freyr.

I have loved R. quite literally since the moment I met him.

There were terrible problems with his son, and it’s all very complicated, but we did not see each other for a long time, and I was not certain at all if we would or could still be together.

The day after I realized I was in love with Freyr, R. found me.

I thought I would have to choose. It was agonizing. R. did not want me to choose; he said Freyr had been good for me, and he hated the idea of ruining anything that had made me happy at all. So, that end being simplistic (though I wasn’t sure if I believed R. was doing the right thing for himself), things were necessarily complicated with Freyr, who has never wanted to share me.

Brand talks about how immobile I am when I have made up my mind about something, how I dig my feet in so far that it would require dismemberment to move me, and even then I would not change my opinion.

I was insistent, despite all advice to the contrary. The warnings to the contrary. The pages upon pages regarding godspousery about how the destruction of non-deity relationships is inevitable. That my entire life would be destroyed if I did not do exactly what was wanted, how it was wanted, when it wanted.

I have never agreed to jump when someone said it.

“Figure out how to share,” was my weary recommendation.

Despite the predictions regarding my undoing, he did sort it out.

I spent last night with him, and heard a story of Byggvir working to become one of Njordr’s servants, and to be given to Freyr when he was young, and then to be taken with him when he went to set up his own household, and of his similar tenacity in pursuing his wife, whose father also did not approve of their pairing. It seems to be a theme, this disapproval of fathers, in the love lives of anyone from that place.

Lacking a father (or a family, at all — Brand’s has adopted me), I am spared any drama of the sort.

We had not gone down for dinner, and it was ultimately brought up, and the fire built up. It is still cold there at night, especially. He asked if his habit of meat-eating bothered me, with my habit of lacto-vegetarianism (I like cheese). It doesn’t; he and the people in his country respect the animals they kill for food. They are grateful. They know they are eating something that was alive, and real.

I went to sleep listening to him breathe, the firelight flickering on his skin and on the insides of my eyes. He does not get particularly cold, and I seem to get very cold when I sleep there, without more blankets than he needs. I am bundled up appropriately whenever I get tired.

My blood pressure is low here, my circulation is not good, and my body temperature is lower than average. It may translate.

No one kisses me in the same way. No one holds me in the same way. I come alive differently in different arms.

Brand thinks I am naturally very monogamous, but my life has not turned out that way.