What’s in a Name?
Many pagans, for one reason or another, have an alternate name to the one they use in their mundane life.
For some, this name has special, magical significance. Some use a pseudonym due to the nature of their life outside of their pagan circles (closeted pagans, or writers who wish to keep their pagan identity and writing separate from the rest of their work.) Some use an alternate name to add to the fantasy and mystery of their ritual workings. For example, a name like “Morgana Moonshadow” sounds a lot more witchy than “Deb Smith.” (I apologize if either of these are your real or chosen names, as I just made them up on the spot. I do not know anyone with either of these names.)
So why do I use one?
In the real world I have a management position in a corporate setting. Although my beliefs may shine through in my ethics, I tend to keep a rather tight lid on religion in the workplace. I don’t judge an employee based on their religion, and I use a don’t ask, don’t tell method when dealing with matters of faith in the workplace. Realistically, I don’t care what religion someone is, as long as they show up on time and do a good job.
I use the name Friskin Valravn here because it keeps me somewhat anonymous. I can’t be linked back to my employer, and therefore can’t be fired for expressing my views and/or defaming the company I work for. I love writing on here, but this blog makes no revenue, and I have to pay the bills somehow.
So why Friskin Valravn?
Friskin is a modified version of the name of the progenitor of the Scottish clan of my ancestors. Freskin de Moravia was the name of the nobleman who came from continental Europe to Scotland and was granted land and title in the region for which my real last name comes from. I use Friskin as a nod to those who came before me. My ancestry.
Valravn is from Danish mythology. As I heard it, a Valravn is an avenging spirit. A valravn is made in the aftermath of a battle, if a raven feeds on a fallen chieftain or king. There are variations where it is a child rather than a king. In some tales, the raven becomes a human knight. In other tales, the raven gains human knowledge, and becomes a terrible trickster. I like the idea of strength coming out of tragedy that is generally implied in these myths. It’s like a darker form of the phoenix. It’s as simple as that.
If you have an interesting story or background for your name, I’d love to hear it.
Friskin
Imbolc
A pagan friend of ours is coming over to celebrate Imbolc with us. This should be interesting, as her path is Celtic/Wicca based, whereas mine is derived from germanic sources. I’m looking forward to the exchange of holiday traditions. (Imbolc is a Celtic festival, Disting is the closest heathen holiday on the calendar.)
I’ll be honest, I have had to brush up on my knowledge of Imbolc, as it has never figured prominently in my path. So here’s what I’ve learned:
“Neopagans of diverse traditions observe this holiday in a variety of ways. As forms of Neopaganism can be quite different and have very different origins, these representations can vary considerably despite the shared name. Some celebrate in a manner as close as possible to how the Ancient Celts are believed to have observed the festival, as well as how these customs have been maintained in the living Celtic cultures. Other types of Neopagans observe the holiday with rituals taken from numerous other unrelated sources, Celtic cultures being only one of the sources used.” – Wikipedia
Thank you Wikipedia, for being completely vague and virtually useless.
On further investigation, I discovered that Imbolc represents the midpoint between Yule and Ostara, winter solstice and spring equinox (or, christmas and easter.) It is a cross-quarter day on the wheel of the year.
Romans used this day to celebrate the founding of Rome by the twins Romulus and Remus. Ancient Egyptians saw this date as the birthday of Nut, the mother of the sun-god Ra. Some christians celebrate Candlemas on this date, being 40 days from christmas (Jewish law dictates that a woman is unclean for 40 days after giving birth, and Candlemas marks the end of this time for the virgin Mary. This of course assumes that the birth of Christ took place on Dec. 25, which scholars actually tend to place around the end of September.)
The Celts celebrated this day as Imbolc, or Oimelc (ewe’s milk.) It is a festival of the goddess Brigid. She was a goddess of poetry, healing, smithcraft, dying, weaving, and brewing. “A goddess of regeneration and abundance, she was greatly beloved as a provider of plenty who brought forth the bounties of the natural world for the good of the people. She is closely connected with livestock and domesticated animals.” –http://www.chalicecentre.net/imbolc.htm
Living in Canada, we have a very different climate to Ireland. The beginning of February is not generally regarded as the start of spring. In fact, we’re usually knee-deep in snow for at least another month or two.
So what will I be celebrating at Imbolc? The germanic creation myth boiled down to its most basic form involves the coming together of the realms of fire and ice. Fire melts ice, and in between these two realms, our world is formed. Hmm… Canadian winter + a blazing hearth = life, warmth, and happiness.
Perhaps Brigid, goddess of the hearth, has a place in this old Canadian heathen’s February after all.
Old Barn Owl 