The Drygand* is the Shifter, and the Wyrdhebora*. With his Siden* he can shift the mind forthward. His Seed-swarm* can drench to the marrow of bone and skull, and once loaded, the Deep Mind there is made anew. And the self becomes the Self, the mind the Edhli-mind*. The Immynd* is yoked to the Edhli-wereld*. And as the Drygand is the Alf-kyning*, one becomes a Drygandalf, a wyrdhebora oneself, in thaneship to the Edhli.
*Drygand= the Pan-chimera, the avatar of the Edhli-mind, bearer of the Lodestone, King of the Alfar, and Guardian of the Edhli. Old English 'dry'= magic (<'druid'?). Old Norse 'gand'= magic thing or being.
*Wyrdhebora= agent of evolution (human).
*Siden= magical power to influence. Old English 'aelfsiden'= elvish influence. (~Old Norse 'seidhr'(?)= a form of magic.)
*Seed-swarm= a swarm or fume of 'samen', the vital fluid. German 'Samen'= seed.
*Edhli-mind= the mind of Living Nature. Old Norse 'edhli'= Nature.
*Immynd= the Imagination. Old Norse 'imyndan'= imagination.
*Edhli-wereld= the Biosphere.
*Alf-kyning= King of the Alfar (Elves).
The Shaggy Mythos is evolving Deep Ecology religion, creative intuitive as well as rational intellectual, which draws on worldwide mythology and folklore as well as scholarly labors of thought, to uncover and reveal the truth of things. Herein you will learn of Feorgen of the Wyke, the Drygand and his Lode, the Searuvel and Dilgoth, and of the Menning and its Menschen, who all play their part in the titanic struggle of our time to save the Biosphere and thus ourselves-as-Ecological-Self.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Friday, January 22, 2010
The Drygand as a Tree
Picture a stick figure of a man, with arms spread upward, crooked at the elbow; legs spread, like a mirror image of the arms. The short lines for feet are canted down a bit as if toe-grasping the soil; those for hands canted up as if receiving the sunlight. This is the Drygand, the Pan-chimera. He is like a tree: rooted in the earth, boughs held up to the sky. He is the Tree of Life, the 'tree' of all living things, which in reality is spread over the Earth, in the waters' deeps, and where land meets sky: the Biosphere.
Monday, January 4, 2010
The Deepster
The Deepster is one who has gone Deep.
Deep into the Deepness of Reyndom (reality), where the two reyndoms become One-- the reyndoms of Edhli-orgyte (Nature-manifest) and of the Inner Mind, bemesh and weld-bond.
Which is how it was, and should be. Then the Edhli lives again in the Heort, in the weird light of the Immynd (imagination)-- it is the Twy-rymet (twofold Space) where the Drygand stalks, in the rune-mists of the Wolken (cloud of being) that curl and fold among the life-kinds of the Eormen-walden (vast forest), which is the Life-Trew (world tree) spread round the Eorth.
There is great might and maegisch (magic) in this Inner-Outer, of the Eormen-sule (great soul). It is the Trew-wereld (true/tree), the Twy-rymet of Halor (balance-salvation).
Seek this Deepness, and find it!
We are all caught in the Searuvel (evil machine). From our birth its fingers seep into our growing minds, and grows its meshes in them, and we become thralls in its Lugen-wereld (false world). As the Searuvel shapes and grips our minds, we can no longer freely feel, we cannot see, but as the Searuvel means us to-- we are forlost in its trammels.
But some young minds yet hold enough of what they were at birth, so when they get the Alf-seeding, they hear the Alf-call. And this strengthens the trewth in the marrow of their minds and bones, that lies like a winter-sleeping wight, mayhap, until it is woke. The Sleeper then may feel, though he be wrapped in fogs of sleeping, that something needful is missing, has been lost, or feel the clangor of the Searuvel as harsh and empty of sowel. This comes oftmost at the waking to one's manhood, when the tide of life courses full, and lifted thus, one feels, one sees, one seeks for what has gone lost.
The Deepness then calls--Come back! Come into your own!
And one cannot then but struggle with the wirring (confusing) fogs of the Searuvel, to find one's trew Self, and the trewth of Life. And one becomes a fledgling Kynecht (knight), going into the Deepness on Findal-seech (quest). And if one wins through to the great Finding, where two werelds become One-- Ah! then the Drygand steps forth, with his fellowing Alf-kynechts, Deepsters all!
And then the tale begins.
Deep into the Deepness of Reyndom (reality), where the two reyndoms become One-- the reyndoms of Edhli-orgyte (Nature-manifest) and of the Inner Mind, bemesh and weld-bond.
Which is how it was, and should be. Then the Edhli lives again in the Heort, in the weird light of the Immynd (imagination)-- it is the Twy-rymet (twofold Space) where the Drygand stalks, in the rune-mists of the Wolken (cloud of being) that curl and fold among the life-kinds of the Eormen-walden (vast forest), which is the Life-Trew (world tree) spread round the Eorth.
There is great might and maegisch (magic) in this Inner-Outer, of the Eormen-sule (great soul). It is the Trew-wereld (true/tree), the Twy-rymet of Halor (balance-salvation).
Seek this Deepness, and find it!
We are all caught in the Searuvel (evil machine). From our birth its fingers seep into our growing minds, and grows its meshes in them, and we become thralls in its Lugen-wereld (false world). As the Searuvel shapes and grips our minds, we can no longer freely feel, we cannot see, but as the Searuvel means us to-- we are forlost in its trammels.
But some young minds yet hold enough of what they were at birth, so when they get the Alf-seeding, they hear the Alf-call. And this strengthens the trewth in the marrow of their minds and bones, that lies like a winter-sleeping wight, mayhap, until it is woke. The Sleeper then may feel, though he be wrapped in fogs of sleeping, that something needful is missing, has been lost, or feel the clangor of the Searuvel as harsh and empty of sowel. This comes oftmost at the waking to one's manhood, when the tide of life courses full, and lifted thus, one feels, one sees, one seeks for what has gone lost.
The Deepness then calls--Come back! Come into your own!
And one cannot then but struggle with the wirring (confusing) fogs of the Searuvel, to find one's trew Self, and the trewth of Life. And one becomes a fledgling Kynecht (knight), going into the Deepness on Findal-seech (quest). And if one wins through to the great Finding, where two werelds become One-- Ah! then the Drygand steps forth, with his fellowing Alf-kynechts, Deepsters all!
And then the tale begins.