Guided Journey to the Home of Goddess Freya

Journey to the Home of Goddess Freya

You don’t have to do anything special before you read the following. We’re not going that deep.

It is a beautiful summer’s evening and you are walking along a dirt road in a place that feels perfectly safe and peaceful. The crickets are singing in the grasses that grow along the roadside. Rounded blue mountains surround you, dropping straight down into the waters of a fjord in the distance in front of you. The air is hazy with yellow sunlight and tiny insects. A dragonfly darts across the road in front of you.

To the left of you just up ahead is a small cottage made of the large, rounded gray stones that dot the landscape around you. The roof is made of sod which is covered with small blue flowers. There is a low stone fence surrounding the cottage. The yard is filled with flowers: roses, lupine, sweet peas, icelandic poppies, delphinium, larkspur and others you can’t identify.

You come upon a wrought iron gate that opens onto a path covered with seashells leading up to the front door of the cottage. The iron is bent into intricate braids and knotwork of metal. Next to the gate is a large key and you laugh to yourself as it is obvious anybody could just step over the wall and walk over the flowers to the house.

“Try it,” says a melodic voice floating from the cottage.

After looking around, even though you know there is no one there, you chuckle again and move to step over the wall. You are abruptly stopped up short, exactly as if there was a solid wall in front of you. Laughter like tinkling windchimes floats across the lawn.

“Better try the key,” says the melodic voice again.

Blushing, you return to the gate and insert the key. It turns easily and the gate swings open on its own. After you step through onto the path, the gate swings shut behind you and you turn to look, startled. Dancing purple flames have now replaced the gate and the garden wall.

“My firewall,” you hear a husky feminine voice say behind you. You turn to see an average looking woman of an indeterminate age, her ordinary physical appearance conflicting with her seductive voice.

“You’re wondering why have a gate at all if it opens so easily,” she continues, and you nod. “It doesn’t open for everybody. You have to be ready.” She puts her hand on your upper arm, pulling you with her into the cottage. Your senses snap into a higher level of awareness at her touch.

“Welcome to my home” she says, gesturing you towards an overstuffed chair. At hand is a small table with tea and a plate of cakes and cookies for two laid out. You sink into the silk brocade upholstery as she pours you a cup of tea. “Thank you for accepting my invitation.”

“I am the Goddess Freya,” she continues, touching her fingertips of her right hand to her forehead, then her heart, then the side of your face, before she sits down. Memories of past loves flash through your mind, so strong you can feel their presence as though they were in the room with you.

“Have some tea,” Freya says, her eyes twinkling. You feel as though you are being watched by a large cat. As bidden, you sip on the tea, which tastes like lavender and roses. The memories fade instantly.

“I didn’t get any invitation,” you say, “And I’m not even sure how I got here.”

“I saw you on the Web,” she says, her smile opening your heart so that you feel as though you’ve plunged into infatuation.

“Oh,” you answer, wondering why you are suddenly so in love with such an ordinary looking woman.

“Have something to eat, dear,” she says, holding the plate of sweets towards you. Again you comply, as though in a dream. You see an almost imperceptible shift between you and Freya, as though a layer has been removed, and the uncomfortable feelings of desire seem to drain out your feet.

“Who are you?” you ask, looking around the room to try and get your bearings. The floors are of golden oiled wood, the curtains and upholstery in rich colors and fabrics.

“Long ago, in ancient times, I was the great goddess of the northern european peoples. Then I was split into two. I am now Freya, the dark half of the great goddess.” Her voice calls you into her.

“The dark half? Are you dangerous?” you say, trying not to gulp.

“Only because people think I am,” she replies, winking. Her wink makes you feel as though you are sinking into warm honey. The conflict between how she makes you feel and what she looks like to your eyes is painful, making your stomach twist.

“Am I in danger here?” you ask, feeling ridiculous for asking.

“Not at all,” she says. “Most of how you are sensing me is an illusion made by your own judgments.”

“How can I tell what’s real, then?” you ask, feeling a slight buzz in your forehead.

“That’s for you to decide,” she answers, nibbling on a cookie.

You look around the room again, trying to digest what is happening. You see the walls are covered with art, images of lovers and what looks like gods and goddesses from many different cultures.

“Friends of mine,” Freya says, following your gaze.

You remember something you read once about deities and say, “I thought goddesses and gods from different cultures didn’t get along.”

“Pfffft,” she says, waving her hand dismissively. “Egos don’t get along. And mortals can be very territorial when it comes to who they worship. Try looking at some fan club message boards sometime if you don’t believe me.”

“But…” you interject slowly. Something still bothers you at the back of your mind.

“Cultures clash. People clash,” she says, sipping tea. “And being thrown into a different society can be very difficult. Worlds colliding and all of that…”

You nod, still not quite following.

“If you’ve grown up in Borneo, for instance, and I suddenly say you should worship me, a goddess associated with the frozen tundra and all that comes with living in it, it’s naturally going to be quite difficult,” she explains. “That’s not to say you won’t find some similarities between me and the goddess you know.”

You chew on her words and a petit four.

Waving her hands she says, “But this is not why we’re here today. I just wanted for us to get acquainted.”

“So, why am I here again?” you ask, frowning.

“Love, life and the pursuit of happiness, I believe,” she says. You laugh together.

“We’ve spent long enough today as it is,” she continues. “We can meet again another time. Look on the blog and see what you’re drawn to.”

The room around you rapidly becomes misty, and you blink as the woman in front of you shapeshifts into the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen, then morphing into a geometric hologram of beautifully colored light. The words “bookmark this page” float out of the mist before it all disappears, and you are back in your chair, in front of your screen, returned to your own world.

Author’s note: You may find the weaving of the world of the ‘Net and the puns a little too over-the-top, but that’s honestly the way it is in the realms of the deities and angels. They want to make the link.

Copyright 2007 Gretchen L. All Rights Reserved.