[innerobservationllama]

On Belief, Myth, and Why I Don’t Need My Gods to Be Fragile

I identify as a heathen… but probably not in the way people expect. I don’t treat the surviving Norse texts as sacred scripture or immutable truth. They were written by people. Translated by people. Preserved through politics, power, fear, and survival. That doesn’t make them worthless. It makes them human. And honestly… I trust human stories more when I stop pretending they fell out of the sky untouched.

For me, the gods don’t demand obedience. They don’t need defending. They don’t shatter if I ask hard questions or refuse literalism. If a belief system collapses the moment curiosity shows up, that system was never strong to begin with. I see myth as a mirror, not a rulebook.

Loki isn’t a villain or a hero. He’s disruption. He’s the force that exposes rot, breaks stagnant systems, and reminds us that comfort and truth are rarely friends. Thor isn’t just a hammer swinging brute. He’s protection, boundaries, and the willingness to stand between chaos and the vulnerable. Freyja isn’t just love or war. She’s sovereignty. Choice. The refusal to be reduced.

These figures work because they reflect parts of us. The parts we admire. The parts we fear. The parts we pretend we don’t have. I don’t believe the gods require blind belief. I believe they require engagement. Wrestling with myth feels more honest than memorizing it.

Ritual, for me, isn’t about perfection or fear of punishment. It’s about intention. Offering something meaningful. Showing up with awareness. If an offering returns to nature, that doesn’t feel like failure. It feels like completion.

I also don’t believe there is one correct way to believe. That idea usually shows up when someone is more invested in control than truth. This is just how it works for me. Not better. Not purer. Not ancient cosplay or modern rebellion. Just the framework that makes sense in my bones.

I’m curious how others experience their beliefs, whether Norse, Christian, other pagan, atheist, or something unnamed. Some questions I keep circling back to…

Do you treat your sacred stories as literal history, symbolic truth, or something in between?

If your beliefs were challenged tomorrow, would they sharpen or shatter?

Do you think faith requires certainty… or courage?

Can a god be meaningful without being perfect?

Is questioning a sign of disrespect, or devotion?

I’m not here to convince anyone. I’m here to talk. To listen. To compare notes across the fire and see what survives the conversation. This is just the way I feel. What about you?

[homewardskies]

I didn't realize this needed to be said, but uhh

If you are a Nazi, you have no place in paganism.

(Or anywhere, actually 🙂)

And to clarify (since ya'll need that, apparently), that includes people who are transphobic, homophobic, pro-eugenics (i.e. social darwinism anti-vaxxer people), anti-immigrant, racist, etc.

Ya'll don't belong here, paganism is not a safe place for you, and I don't want you interacting with my blog.

No TERFS, no conservatives, none of it. Freedom and equality for all.

[lokean-shrine]

🔥A Fire Ritual of Confidence with Loki

This ritual is for moments when you feel uncertain, hesitant, or small — when you need confidence that is flexible rather than forceful.

You will need:

– one candle (any color)

– a quiet moment

– honest intention

If you cannot use a candle, imagine a flame instead.

Light the candle.

Sit comfortably and look at the flame for a few seconds. Do not stare hard; let your eyes rest. Notice how the fire moves without apology. It does not ask permission to exist.

Place one hand over your chest or stomach.

Say (aloud or quietly):

Loki, fire that moves and changes,

I stand before what I must face.

Not fearless,

but willing.

Not perfect,

but present.

Let this flame remind me

that confidence does not mean control.

It means motion.

It means showing up

even when the shape is uncertain.

If my voice shakes, let it still be heard.

If my path bends, let me keep walking.

If I must change mid-step,

let that be strength, not failure.

Loki, lend me fire that adapts,

not fire that consumes.

Let me burn bright enough

to be myself.

Pause for a breath. Watch the flame flicker.

Then say:

I carry this fire with me.

I do not need to harden to be strong.

I do not need to dominate to be sure.

So it is.

Extinguish the candle gently, or let it burn safely if appropriate.

You may repeat this ritual before conversations, creative work, interviews, or any moment where you need confidence that is alive rather than rigid.

Confidence, like fire, does not stand still.

Loki understands this.