Smoky Mountain Sorcery

I have enough trauma from human fathers and father-deities. So the last thing I wanted was anything to do with a god called “All-Father.” Not to mention, he has a bit of a rep. For lies. For betrayal. In a poem that’s supposed to be his own sayings he seems to agree – “How can he be trusted?” (Hávamál 110). When it’s prophesied that a woman named Rindr will bear him a son to avenge his murdered son Baldr – yet he’s unable to woo her – he casts a spell of madness on her, disguises himself as a medicine woman and tells Rindr’s father she needs to be tied to the bed for the medicine to work, and rapes her.

No, I absolutely did NOT want anything to do with such a deity.

Norse Myths Aren’t Scripture

Back to my trauma history with father-deities. Growing up Southern Baptist and being sucked into a Pentecostal cult as a 21-year-old, I was hammered with the idea that religious stories are absolute fact. Even the talking donkeys, the man-swallowing fish and a plague of frogs to strong-arm a Pharoah happened just like written. So when people tried to tell me that the myths aren’t meant to be taken literally it just did not compute.

Like, OK – but what hidden meaning can there possibly be to rape??

Then I discovered Maria Kvilhaug and her book, The Seed of Yggdrasil, which I cannot recommend highly enough. By breaking down the hidden meanings to the myths I was able to see how the details of the stories are constructed by humans – not handed down by the gods – in order to explain the truths that were revealed. Those stories are a product of their time. The point of the story is that the Divine desperately wants to reunite with the bits of itself that are in us. Or how the bits in us desperately want to reunite with Source. In no reality did Óðin actually trick and rape a woman or goddess named Rindr. Because Óðin isn’t a human being, or even a physically anthropomorphic being. He’s a god.

In the myths the gods are portrayed as if they’re larger-than-life humans. Probably this is because that’s the only way we can connect to them in the stories. And on one level those stories were meant to entertain the masses (or at least the mass gathered at the farmhouse, tavern or feasting hall when they were being told). Jackson Crawford has compared the myths to movie franchises. James Bond is a character we understand. But the details in a Daniel Craig Bond movie don’t have to line up with everything that happened in a Sean Connery film. Each story has its own plot and its own theme or message.

In the myths though, the entertainment also has a deeper meaning. Just below the surface they’re telling deeper truths to those that know how to decipher them. (Seriously, read Kvilhaug!!)

As this concept was percolating, I also had a conversation with Cat Heath, author of Elves, Witches and Gods and the SEO Helrune blog. I can’t remember now what I’d contacted her to ask about, but in the ensuing chat I mentioned my impression and hesitation around Óðin. She replied that her family’s experience with “the Old Man” wasn’t anything like that – in fact, he’d brought quite a bit of luck to their household. She chuckled and said I had “Odin cooties” already. And dammit, she wasn’t wrong.

Óðin Reaches Out

Ohh, the dreams!

Snakes trying to bite me. Secrets being whispered to me that I can’t quite understand. A mysterious but attractive man lurking in the basement, touching my life from a distance. A name that turns out to be an actual ancestor. Every time I pulled cards or looked up symbols from my dreams I was getting the same message: you’re running away from something good. Avoiding wisdom. Just dive in already!

I rewatched all the good seasons of Vikings. I ordered books about Óðin. I felt the familiar hunger that goes with a new deity, wanting all the information I could get. But I was still wary. Not ready to commit.

In May I reached my first point of surrender. I was on my deck making morning offerings when I said, fine. I won’t resist any more. Still not making a commitment, but I’ll honor you. That night, I fell asleep with the window up. Sometime in the night I woke up and decided I needed to close it. As I got there and took hold of the window, movement caught my eye. Outside on the railing leading off my deck was… a cat? It took another step, then stopped and looked right at me.

It was a raccoon – the first one I have ever seen in the wild. It stared me down for nearly a minute, then casually jumped down to the walkway on the other side of the railing with a rather large thump. Dude was a chonk!

Immediately I thought, Grimnir. “The Masked One.” The next morning, I did some research: Raccoons are related to bears, which are of course associated with Óðin. They’re extremely curious, and able to get into pretty much anything. Yeah, sounds like him. The mask was compared to ritual masking ceremonies, where masks aid transformations and altered mental states.

They didn’t exist in Europe before being introduced in the 20th century, but if they had no doubt they’d have been connected to Óðin. Clearly he had noticed me and shown up.

I bought him a statue – a small one at first. I began giving him diluted honey whenever I made offerings. A couple weeks ago, I wrote out a galdr asking him what exactly he wanted from me and drummed till I got an answer. In part, it was to write. So here I am, writing.

Today, January 5, 2026 I made the commitment. I’ve created a dedicated space on my altar, got him a full-sized statue and consecrated it. As of today, I am Óðinsdóttir.

Hail the All-Father!