May 23, 2025
"Drell can mentally escape into old memories. It came in handy on the bad days". -Feron, on Hagalaz
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"Drell can mentally escape into old memories. It came in handy on the bad days". -Feron, on Hagalaz
REDREDRED
art from the recent chapter of GITM (ch 39 Hagalaz)
gggg i need to draw more from this scene it was so good
gitm and these lovely characters belong to @venomous-qwille
The Ritual
Hagalaz
It's frustrating when things fall apart, especially when they're holding something. When your backpack or purse you're carrying tears and everything comes falling out creates a mess and feel embarassing.
The good news is, however, that you now have the opportunity to fix and reinforce the new seams or just buy a new bag altogether. Sometimes rebuilding with a stronger foundation is the best solution, and sometimes something entirely different suits your needs better. Each requires different resources to attain, but both get you the container you need. Just make sure it's sturdy and that whatever you put inside isn't going to cause enough strain to rip it apart.
Think about what "containers" you create for yourself: perhaps literal containers for things that you enjoy or need, a physical space for you to decompress in or do specific things, emotional space for yourself and another person to have discussion and understand one another. Whatever it is for you, don't be afraid if things are (or seem to be) falling apart. Find some comfort in the fact that this is an opportunity for change and to improve upon those "containers." How can I more efficiently store my things? What can I do to make this space more relaxing for me? How can we more effectively communicate and respect each other's boundaries? Find your answer, then turn the thought into action.
Hagalaz:Salve
Salve a la tormenta que trae consigo transformación.
La calma que la precede es traicionera:
adormece, apacigua, desarma,
hasta que su ventisca veraniega irrumpe sin aviso.
En el instante en que te entregás a la emoción pasajera,
desciende el diluvio.
A veces tan intenso
que podría apagar un incendio forestal.
Amapolas bajo el sol.
Después del caos,
la estrella solar cumple su función
y renueva
todo aquello que la tormenta creyó perdido.
La tierra escuchó
y no se defendió.
Abrió grietas para que el agua entrara,
cedió raíces,
permitió que el barro se mezclara con la ceniza.
No negó la tormenta.
La reconoció como lenguaje.
El viento pasó por los árboles
y ninguno pidió quedarse intacto.
Las hojas cayeron
porque sabían
que no todo lo que se pierde se rompe.
Cuando el diluvio cesó,
el suelo respiró distinto.
Más hondo.
Más honesto.
Las amapolas no preguntaron por el antes.
Se alzaron rojas,
testigos breves
de que la belleza también nace
donde hubo exceso.
Y el sol —
sin prometer permanencia—
volvió a ocupar su lugar.
No para borrar la tormenta,
sino para recordarle al mundo
que incluso el caos
necesita luz
para volverse sentido.
witchcraft has taught me more about patience and perseverance than anything else in my life