A Rehash and a First

Since this blog opened last year, I have not talked about sex. So that’s the first; I’ll be talking about sex. And what it is and isn’t like between Loki and me. And how it all connects to this post, where I tried to express the pain of doubt creeping into my heart. If it weren’t linked to that episode, I wouldn’t be talking about it at all. But that right there, the doubting–would be the rehash.

If the concept of sex between humans and Gods bothers you in any way, this is where you stop reading. If you’re hoping to read porn, this is also where you stop reading and I stop wasting your time.

Firsts first, then. You see, here’s the thing. What developed into a bone-chilling and ongoing crisis of faith? It started, with sex. It should not feel as nerve-wracking as it does to admit that I am in a sexual relationship with Loki. Or more succintly put, my relationship with Loki has a sexual aspect. It has been there right from day one and has only developed from there.

If I were to describe it — and therein lies the rub — I would have to say it is different. It is different from all the accounts and portrayals of sexuality with Loki specifically and Gods generally that I know of or have witnessed. The way it happens, when and if it does, does not fall neatly into any of the categories that Del describes in his rather epic, wildly popular (and also excellent) post about God sex. But most notably, it does not blend in with the particular flavours of sexuality that I have seen expressed by others who are in a sexual relationship with Him.

There are three basic types of sexuality I see reflected most often by people in the various online communities — there probably are more out there, but the three I am going to mention are the ones that left an impression, for better or worse. There’s a form that seems young, all-consuming, intensely passionate, lively and maybe just a little less than fully fledged. The second is one whose particular flavour is influenced by the kink/BDSM/fetish community, the pagan department thereof. This is a kind of sexuality that by its very nature lends itself easily to the God-human relationship specifics. The third form I have noticed is a form that I would not feel sorry to have seen the last of (would that it were): a banalising, frivolous form that is focused on the most rudimentary act of sticking genitals into genitals, with no sense of the sacredness of the act.

Myself? I don’t feel I am really a part of the first group, although there is much to recommend it and little to condemn. It is just that I am not a twenty-something anymore, and at twenty-something, one’s sexuality still has a long way to go. There are differences, and yes, they are related to age. For example when I was twenty, I had not experienced an orgasm yet; I simply didn’t know how to navigate the equipment. If I compare that to what my sexuality is today, there are a lot of differences maybe not as obvious as this one, but no less stark in contrast. Of course I can be a gushing fool and I am absolutely smitten when it comes to Loki. If you let me go on about Him, you’ll see my eyes turn into little pink hearts (the likes of which I have been doodling all over my work stuff) and observe a grin on my face that will make the sun rise even at midnight. But all that does not mirror the way my relationship with Him works. Much as I enjoy the youthful “feel” to those portrayals of sexuality with Loki, I cannot help but notice that I don’t really belong there. There, in case you were wondering, being tumblr for the most part.

However, I didn’t start out interacting or even only reading information, on tumblr. Tumblr was where I fled after I got intimidated badly elsewhere and almost turned my back on Loki and the “God-experience” as a whole. But that’s another story. Before that happened, I was prowling the Internets for information, and came across the BDSM/kink community people’s contributions about sexuality with Deities. Still today I find that the quality of the according posts (Del’s epic one, but also other, more personal accounts) stands out. Maybe that is because there’s a high percentage of sex educators in this group, or the fact that being sex educated is a must if you want to practice BDSM sexually. I don’t know.

But there definitely seems to be a dynamic of mutual permeation of mundane sex-work — such as workshops, talks, podium discussions, events — and spiritual work that involves sexuality. The competence and visibility combine into an immense online presence. Sometimes, I (wrongly) think that there are very few who write high-quality contributions and are not in the BDSM community, so that the overall picture that emerges is one that paints a sexual relationship with Loki, or any Deity, as one that has a kink/BDSM flavour by default. (This is my rather muddled way of saying that I think kink/BDSM backgrounds are overrepresented in the pagan communities when it comes to questions of sexuality).

But thoughts of over- or underrepresentation don’t figure into the equation when it comes to intuitive impressions, emotional responses and the like. I read those posts and due to their quality found myself nodding along. Additionally to being well-written, there’s is also the fact that it makes sense. The power dynamics of a relationship between an incredibly powerful, divine Being and a human… is staggering. It organically lends itself to a kink/BDSM lifestyle. When I started delving into the concept of a sexual relationship with a God, in summary, it seemed natural to assume that this is the modus operandi for all God-human relationships, especially as far as sexuality is concerned.

And myself? Well, I’m kink-curious, somewhat, and have experimented a little with soft forms of kink… but I am definitely not a member of that community.

The third form of sexuality that left a lasting impression on me, is one that I could go just fine knowing nothing about. One where the sexual act itself may even be misused to define a person’s identity — this is no joke, I have been in a chat where one person in particular introduced herself by saying, “hello, my name is <name>, and it’s been ten minutes since I banged Loki”. There was no reverence, no awe, no feeling of sacredness. Just, in a word (well, two), God porn. Loki’s name would sometimes be used semantically interchangeably with a reference to a penis, or a sex toy. He would be reduced to wanting to perform this or that sexual(ly deviant?) practice on or with this or that person. He would be reduced to a protagonist in a cheap purple prose novel, or a porn film.

I am hit by the realisation how much even just writing about it here makes makes me feel wrong. I have rewritten and erased, and re-rewritten the previous paragraph into something that may seem harsh and judgmental; tough. This harsh form is the only way I can accept this being on my blog at all. I dont’t think I have to mention that I don’t feel at home in that corner, either.

But where does that leave me? It leaves me somewhere in the underrepresented nowhere-space of erasure that is a part of the pagan community where people like me exist. People who are not part of a vocally present group. I’m writing this post, in part, to show them how it can go wrong if you start letting these things get to you. I’m also writing this to wrap up what became the most unsettling, painful time ever since Loki touched me for the first time one and a half years ago.

Don’t get me wrong. This is not about being a misfit. I don’t mind being a misfit (sometimes, I actually am glad that I am one). I don’t mind that I’m not twenty anymore, and I don’t mind that I’m not a heavy kink person. I most certainly don’t mind that for me the act of sex with Loki is something holy (yes that is possible even if He pokes fun at sex stuff at the same time!).

Much as I don’t mind not being able to identify with those groups, I don’t mind that the technicalities of my sexual relationship with Him are different, too. My most intense sexual encounters with Him were neither horsed sex (I doubt I could ever trust a horse enough to be comfortable with horsed sex), nor astral sex, nor “masturbation with intent”. They were absolutely non-corporeal, non-body-related, ethereal and transcendental. Perhaps the most similar approximation of it was described by a Luciferian when they explained how they experienced ecstatic union with Lucifer. The image they used to describe what happens was one of lightning bolts striking the ground (I have lost the link but if you recognise yourself here, drop me a note and I’ll be happy to link to your post). I would not, personally, use the same imagery. But that spiritual blurring of the boundaries of self, and the feeling of being invaded, consumed… maybe comes close. In that state, even an act as essential as breathing becomes sex.

But things didn’t stay as happy as that.

The first slivers of a problem came up when I started thinking about… frequency. Yes, you heard that right. The question how often one has sex. The frequency of intercourse. It is a widely known fact that Loki has a seemingly endless appetite when it comes to sex. Look around, look at the myths. People describe Him as “highly sexual”, “over-sexed”, etc.

I, on the other hand, am not. To be perfectly honest, given all my experiences with partners (before Loki), I would describe myself as asexual if it weren’t for sudden, short but somewhat intense bursts of sexual interest. Regardless of my own sexual orientation, what I’m saying is that I don’t usually have a strong sex drive. Contrary to the reputation preceding Him, however, Loki wouldn’t mind in the slightest, if I wasn’t in the mood. If I simply had no interest in sex. He would be perfectly content to just be with me, to teach me things about Himself instead, to go travelling, tell me a story, or to just keep me company. As if I was the most  interesting little thing in the universe (He does that with ants, too, sometimes. And smarties.).

And I found that increasingly odd, and then increasingly worrying. At first the worry was only about frequency. But then I began to worry about the fact that whenever it came to sex, my perspective would not match with anyone else’s, in any aspect of it. Specifically, I began to worry about why Loki seemed so different with me than with other people I knew had a sexual relationship with Him. Why it would feel like whatever He did was about me, when, according to “everybody’s” opinion, including my own, it should be about Him? What about His preferences? His desires, wishes that I had internalised as “voracious”, “kinky”, sometimes not even caring? I worried because I never heard Him voice anything of the sort. I worried because it had begun to make me doubt whether I was even interacting with Him in the first place. It became worse and worse, until one day, I stupidly threw into His face that I thought He ‘should be’ pushing the issue. Which is Myriad-speak for coercion, just so we’re clear about what I was challenging Him to do. Yeah, you heard me.

He heard me, too. Luckily for me, He didn’t agree. Instead, from one minute to the next, He was gone. There was nothing when I felt for Him, like I’m wont to do. Just nothing.

The doubt, however, was still with me. What if I was just kidding myself? What if… He didn’t even exist? I’m not going into that much detail again; suffice it to say that this was doubt beyond the all-present intellectual doubt. (That is just something my brain does, because I deal with logic professionally… occupational hazard). It was rather more deep-seated than that. Doubt of the heart, I called it, but even that doesn’t quite cover it.

The feeling of connectedness that I cannot put into words was completely gone, as I crashed headfirst into the great void, silence and desperation of heart-doubting. There was this question, this big, unknowable question: Who are You? What are You? Are You real? I spent hours sitting at His altar, tormenting myself by entertaining a vague and futile hope that I would somehow be able to feel Him, that the heart-doubt would simply stop, somehow. It didn’t.

Even knowing that it wouldn’t put the doubts of my heart, and much less those of my mind, to rest, I tried asking for an omen. “Show me a strawberry”, I said to Loki, “if You’re really there, show me a strawberry.” — It was late October, and thus pumpkin time. Pumpkins and strawberries are diametrically opposed, so the chances that I would actually see a strawberry were slim. Still, I didn’t want to give up hope, so I went about my business with open eyes…

… and against all pumpkin-biased odds, He showed me strawberries[*], the likes of which only He is capable of finding and picking. Still, I felt nothing. I sat “with Him” for hours, lost in thought and questioning some of the most important life decisions I had recently made, challenging the reasoning behind some that I am still to make. I woke up to the crushing certainty that “a good night’s sleep” was not going to make the problems go away (which is a lie I had called my mum out on when I was 6 years old — so that was old news, really).

The chatter and goings-on of my online communities became unbearable; I wasn’t able to pretend like nothing was amiss, and I knew there were no words in this world that could make that Not-Feeling within me go away. I would start babbling nonsense myself, declaring a love to Him that I wasn’t feeling, couldn’t feel.

But I wanted to… so I kept trying, refused to give up on Him. Loki was given His offerings to the best of my ability. He was given my time — it was the most and the least I could do, as I couldn’t give Him my devotion. Not in honesty at least.

In retrospect, it’s astounding how little time passed like that. A couple of days, not much longer than two weeks was all. But it felt like… longer.

Until one day, as I sat in silence waiting, I was suddenly regained my capability to feel His presence again; it was subtle at first, so that I didn’t immediately even recognise it — I filed it under “strange things that my body sometimes feels”. But then that “strange thing” grew into that wonderful pressing-into, tingling-vibrating sensation that He creates. His presence that I have come to know so intimately by now.

It was… I cannot put into words how it was. I was sitting there with a huge lump in my throat and sudden tears in my eyes, physically trying to touch the very air around me. I felt Him as if He should be solid, corporeal, right there.

I learned that day (He told me), that He would rather put me through that over and over again, than to force me into a sexual encounter I don’t want.

Yeah, sounds romantic like fuck, but suspending disbelief for a moment here, I think the bigger picture here is (once again): expectations and assumptions. Expectations are hurtful and harmful and altogether useless where Loki is concerned. Where any Deity is concerned. We do not know what it is that They want. We may have an idea, and perhaps some day, when we’ve been in this kind of relationship for years or decades, we might have a somewhat more fleshed-out idea, but at the end of the day: We Do Not Know. The Gods are not there to meet our expectations of Them (in this particular case, luckily). So, in the interest of all involved parties, I politely ask you to kick your the assumptions in the balls, please.

When I sat down and started looking into that particular assumption, I talked with a friend who, while having a romantic (correct me if I’m wrong in that, please?) relationship with Loki, does not have a sexual aspect at all to this relationship. When I explained to her how my crisis had come about, she told me that she  could relate to my wondering whether I was even dealing with Loki at all. Whenever this (or something similar) comes up, there is an individual cause that acts as a catalyst. In my case, it was the fact that I’m almost asexual and have had experiences of being pressured in sexual matters in the past. However, we also explored wider, more general causes for this problem. As far as my conclusions go, it has two different roots: a socio-cultural one, and a theological one.

The socio-cultural root grows thus: as women, we are used to being portrayed as ‘focused on home-making’, ‘prioritising romantic love’, and ‘not possessing a strong sex drive’. We are also used to the fact that men, contrarily, are often shown as “sex-crazed” beasts whose primal instinct tells them they only want to “stick it in”. While this, of course, is utter bullshit, it also is a socio-cultural reality of partriarchic society. So, when my “not so strong sex drive” (among other points in which I sometimes resemble the stereotypical female) started showing up as an actual thing, the intuitive leap that happened was to expect that the stereotypical male was also a thing. And since I perceive Loki as male (YMMV), that’s what happened. It’s easy enough to recognise when it happens, and mostly, forewarned is forearmed.

The theological root to what happened is much more nefarious, because there is simply no way how it can just be argued away. It is hard for me to talk about that (sexual) aspect of my relationship with Loki, simply for the reason that I feel uncomfortable with how different it still is, all things considered. It just isn’t like what “everybody else” experiences. But there are things one needs to remember about “everybody else”.

One: “everybody else” does not exist. It’s an umbrella term that your psyche makes up to describe the roughest, vaguest impression that you have about other people. It’s not about actual, valid statistics; quite simply it’s about nothing but your own, subjective reception of the societies you identify with. Two: even if “everybody else” contained an accurate description of things that are going on — meaning even if all information available to you were pointing out that Loki is a kinkster and hyper-sexed (and so are His worshippers)… even if that were the case, there would still be an enormous sample bias (because not everybody talks), and there would still be the possibility, or certainty rather, of incomplete information.

Because none of those nebulous “everybody else” people knows every single thing there is to know about Loki. So yes, He can be a perfect gentleman (if it suits Him? If He knows He’d chase you away with saucy shenannigans, why the fuck not). He can likewise indulge in sexuality that doesn’t incorporate kink, and enjoy it. And so on, and so forth.

But the actual problem, the theological problem here is that the above line of thinking can easily lead to an “anything goes” approach wherein all the devotee’s desires, issues, opinions, preferences, etcetera, are projected onto the Deity without discernment. At the end of the day, we accept that the Gods are bigger than us by some metric (I believe in the metric system) fuckton of orders of magnitude. Hence, They are unfathomable, and all information about Them must necessarily be incomplete. But that same inscrutability that dooms all attempts to pigeonhole the Gods also lends itself to adaptability and ultimately to Their mirroring our issues back at us in order for us to learn from Them.

Extending that thought, however, there is a point at which one may ask oneself the question, “how are They different from mirrors of our own psyche?” — especially because our perception of Them takes the long, winding road of our subconscious. And further down that thoughtline still, there is “if They are mirrors of our own psyche, what does that mean in terms of externality?” And I think that the answer at that point would be one that is inherently non-polytheistic. Ultimately, for a hard polytheist, They are either external, or They are not Gods.

The way I see it, in our reception of the Gods as polytheists, there is a constant struggle to reconcile the individuality and personhood of the Gods and Their ability to mirror us perfectly.

And when things went downhill regarding the sex issue, I had become unable to reconcile what I knew about the Person Loki, with what I perceived of the Person Loki.

The end. All wrapped up. All analysed, and hopefully widely understood… any comments?

[*] Regarding the above-mentioned strawberries: it was funny. I saw several strawberries that day, but the first one was the one He meant for me to see. It wasn’t exactly a strawberry, you see. It was a protective cover on someone’s bike-saddle. It was bright red in colour, and had pale yellow dots all over. I saw it in a place I pass by every day, but I didn’t accept it. It wasn’t a strawberry to me. (I saw more, so regarding the omen that was a moot point at the time. But then, considering the context, the whole omen search was moot, as I was in doubt anyway.)

The point however, is that I saw that same bike in a completely different place a couple of days ago. That was when I noticed that the cover was tied around the saddle with a green rubber band that was pulled into a bow at the wide (aft pointing) end of the saddle. The whole thing was actually meant to be a strawberry, including the green bits at the top. At which point I dissolved into a fit of laughter and a puddle of real, heart-felt goo-ey love for Loki.

The End. (This post has been a monster. I apologise for the length of it).

About Myriad

Myriad Hallaug Lokadís
This entry was posted in Communication and Communion, Devotional Practice, Loki, Polytheism and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

21 Responses to A Rehash and a First

  1. Alexis Solvey Viorsdottir says:

    darf ich rebloggen?
    übrigens wundert mich das hier gar nicht:
    >>I learned that day (He told me), that He would rather put me through that over and over again, than to force me into a sexual encounter I don’t want.<<

    • Myriad says:

      gern! (ich wäre geehrt!)

    • Myriad says:

      ja… wobei mich natürlich jetzt schon brennend interessiert, ob Du dafür einen spezifischen Grund hast, dass Dich das nicht wundert? (Danke für den Reblog <3 )

      • Alexis Solvey Viorsdottir says:

        Weil ich bisher noch nie gehört oder erfahren hab, dass Sie etwas tun, dass gegen unseren eigenen, tiefen Willen/Charakter geht. Gegen so oberflächliches Geheule wie “bääää aber ich mag nicht weil mir das zu anstrengend ist” schon.

        Vielleicht lese ich auch zu selten die Ami-Blogs und bin daher positiv verbledet.

      • Myriad says:

        Vielleicht ein wenig. Ich habe zumindest aus dritter Hand schon davon gehört, dass Gerüchte dieser Art aufgetaucht sind. Mal hier mal da. Meist sind das Dinge gewesen, bei denen es sich später herausstellte, dass die betreffende Person das mit Absicht behauptet hat, um in der Gruppe Unruhe zu stiften, oder Drama zu provozieren. Ist aber eine schwierige Angelegenheit, man will ja in dem Moment nicht gleich sofort hingehen und sagen “du bildest dir das alles ja nur ein”, oder sogar “du lügst”.

        Daneben gibt es aber auch genügend Leute, die einfach nicht in der Lage sind, zwischen ihren eigenen Zwangsvorstellungen und den tatsächlichen Interaktionen mit Göttern und/oder Geistwesen zu unterscheiden. Dann wird es natürlich erst recht schwierig, weil kein böser Wille zu Grunde liegt.

        Naja. Dinge halt, die man irgendwie im Hinterkopf hat. Es ist leider sehr schwierig etwas, das man einmal gelesen hat, wieder ungelesen zu machen. :-/

      • Alexis Solvey Viorsdottir says:

        Wahrlich… aber vielleicht bin ich auch sehr optimistisch und naiv was Götter betrifft. :)

      • Myriad says:

        möglich. Aber ich bezweifle es. Denn wenn es üblich wäre, dass die Damen und Herren Ihre Verehrer sinnlos bedrohen oder sogar angreifen, dann hätte es wohl nicht so viele davon gegeben. Nee nee, ich glaub’ Du hast schon die richtige Idee diesbezüglich.

        Doofes Rumgeheule ist was anderes. Da kennen die ja nix. :)

  2. Alexis Solvey Viorsdottir says:

    Hat dies auf Geschichten einer urbanen Priesterin rebloggt und kommentierte:
    Wieder ein sehr schöner Beitrag von Myriad. Sehr lesenswert.

  3. Amber Drake says:

    Thank your for sharing this post.
    I, too, had a sexual relationship with Loki that was different from anyone else’s experiences that I read about. It was an ecstatic union which felt partially physical.
    I am, in fact, appalled at the way so many Lokeans describe their sexual interactions with Loki; they write about God porn, not sacred sexuality. They brag about how often they get “banged” by Loki, like it was a contest.

    • Myriad says:

      […] ecstatic union which felt partially physical.
      What you’re describing sounds not too far off from what the experience feels like for me. When I said it was “non-body-related” above, I meant that it didn’t necessarily involve any specific bodily parts (up to and including genitals). I didn’t mean that I couldn’t feel it physically… to the contrary, my physical perception is rather strong. (I just thought I would mention this, lest there are misunderstandings about the semantics).

      “they write about God porn, not sacred sexuality”
      Yes, exactly. Here’s the thing though: I agree and I find that kind of expression as despicable as you seem to do. Something that bears noticing though is that this usually doesn’t happen on tumblr. I mean, tumblr gets blamed for many things, but this shouldn’t be one of them. So I’m beginning to think this is not a “Lokean” problem but one connected to specific groups of Lokeans. And I think there is something that we need to begin to concern ourselves with regarding that: namely that it actually drives people away from Loki, and that some people (including me, apparently, as far as writing about it in my blog is concerned) cannot handle that sort of yuck energy…

  4. Yeah, this all makes a lot of sense.

    “The way I see it, in our reception of the Gods as polytheists, there is a constant struggle to reconcile the individuality and personhood of the Gods and Their ability to mirror us perfectly.”
    Yeah :| If there’s one conversation I’ve had (with myself, with Loki, with Others) over and over and over, more than any other, it’s variations on that. And I’ve found it a really difficult thing, at times, because by mirroring us – whether it’s just using our own phrases when They ‘speak,’ because it’s easier, or bigger sorts of mirrorings – it makes it tricky to pick out what is “really” the deity and what is . . . well, basically just therapy. Or other kinds of giving us what we want/expect. Which is challenging and weird when one of those beings you /know/ you don’t really know, and you know is /really good/ at mirroring things and wearing masks, is someone you’ve married . . . [This started to get long and then I realized I had a lot of poorly-worked-out thoughts.]

    I think you know this, but I also have a history of being pressured into sex, by my ex-husband, and that has been something Loki has worked on with me this year – in some fairly mild ways, and some fairly intense. I’ve had a complicated mix of concerns about my relationship with Loki in terms of sexual interactions, at least in terms of whether I have been approaching things from a healthy perspective myself . . . The “expectations” you describe, the cultural baggage, are certainly part of it, but the past pattern I lived with for so long (and repeated to much less harmful degree in other relationships) has also been a frustration. It’s been a huge HUGE relief to know that if He does the equivalent of waggling His eyebrows at me and I’m not in the mood, I am not going to have to deal with any kind of pressure or even mild disappointment that might push me from “not interested” to “well, I guess it would be a nice thing to do, even if I don’t really feel inclined for myself,” and that if a “long” period of time goes by where there is no sexual interaction – it’s okay.

    I have a theory that is based on very little that whether or not people experience that kind of ecstatic union (which sounds like it is more than just “energetic sex”) that you’ve described is – something like a skill, or perhaps an inherent ability, I’m guessing related to your energy body or /something/, fuck if I know, that varies from person to person and can be hmm, trained? Enhanced? Developed further? over time; I think I’ve only had very fleeting experiences that meet that kind of description of blurring of boundaries, and they’ve been more recent, which leads me to believe there’s some change in -me- somehow. Trying to define for myself what “counts” as “spirit sex” has been irritating and frustrating, because in almost every way I’ve experienced it, and the ways I’ve learned to think about what “counts,” there are such striking differences from sex with corporeal mortals that sometimes I don’t know how to properly conceive of what has been going on. And also: thoughts like this: “Why it would feel like whatever He did was about me, when, according to “everybody’s” opinion, including my own, it should be about Him? What about His preferences?” are things I run into (and worry about) a lot. (And then I decide that if He seems happy, maybe I shouldn’t stress out about it. lather rinse repeat.)

    • Myriad says:

      Yeah, all of that.

      Regarding the mirroring/mimicking bit, and the awkwardness of having an intimate love relationship with such a Being: I hear you. It’s weird, and sometimes it makes me wonder whether I’m in the process of inventing a whole new dimension of narcissism. But that’s a surefire way to drive yourself up the wall, so after a while, I stop worrying about that. (Only until next time, of course).

      Yes, I know about the pressuring in sexual matters thing (we used to talk about it for a bit in Spring). And, in a way, it’s a little uncomfortable to really discuss that topic in more depth; as you said, some of the work Loki does with people is fairly intense. And He’s not exactly someone Who keeps to the manual when it says “see that big red button over there? That’s the one that must never-ever be pressed.”, or politely refrains from prodding if you say “elephant? What elephant?”. So, yeah… there’s definitely that. It does get intense. And He needn’t always be circumspect about your feelings about things, especially if you’re standing in your own way. But I think that’s a little different from what I described above, or what you experienced in the past. It’s just very hard to put that difference into words without sounding either Stockholmian or completely idiotic… the best I can think of is: it is work. It’s not done for some selfish or sadistic reason. And from what I’ve seen and experienced, Loki is completely honest about hurting you (general sense you). He doesn’t blame you or make excuses. So… definitely not the same pattern, I think. (At least according to my view…? Correct me if I’m wrong here, please.)

      It’s a difficult field to sort through, at any rate. There’s cultural background to consider, and expectations, always those expectations… and I think analysing that can help you understand. But similar to what you’ve expressed above, that the personal catalyst — your own background, personal experience, etc. is what brings the whole complex to the surface. Fortunately, I haven’t been in the same kind of systematically abusive relationship, but I recognise some of the thought patterns. Going from “not in the mood”, to “well, you want to and I love you, so I guess…” for instance. Been there, done that, rather more often than I would care to admit. And another intimate acquaintance: the bad conscience/feeling if you don’t go from “no”, to “well… okayy…”. [Fuck that, makes me angry].

      It’s kinda sad that it baffles me so much that He (Loki) doesn’t make me feel that way. He’s okay with everything. If I say “no, not now”, He’s like, completely fine with it. No pressure, no poorly veiled resentment, no guilt-tripping, no “is it something I said?”, no counting the days, no nothing. He, hmm… how to put it? He shows me that “quality time” doesn’t imply “sexy times” at all. It just implies intentness. If I’m up for sex, then that’s pretty much the best thing ever. And if not? that’s pretty much the best thing ever. And it really, really shouldn’t come as a surprise, but it does.

      [Except then I got stupid and told Him I thought He should be an arse just to prove that He’s external to me (hence that whole episode. Sometimes I wonder how I survived the first thirty-something years of my life)].


      It’s great that you mention the experience of ecstatic union, and your theory. I can say that this is something I have observed in myself as well. I’ve always (meaning ever since first contact [in this life, or whatever, fuck knows]) had a fairly strong energetic reaction to His presence; this kind of sex that I’ve described above wasn’t something I could always “do”, but it’s something that I “learned” quickly, as well as something that has been intensifying over time. So, I guess that would be a point of validation for your theory. My vague hypothesis is that my… energy body/whatever/fuck-knows and my physical body seem to be linked well together, or something. (I hate using those vague terms, but there it is).

      It’s funny how a while back, I was convinced I was headblind. No really, I was, and it is. There was a specific period when I thought everybody else was making so much progress and I was still sitting there, talking, listening, and figuring out how energetic stuff felt with Loki. And all I ever got from Him on that specific topic was something akin to “What the fuck are you even complaining about, are you trying to be obtuse??! Feel that?!” and then He’d proceed and make me a set of wonderful goosebumps. And so on. What I’m trying to say is: it’s been there all along, but I was too preoccupied with other stuff to realise how precious it is.

      The first time “it” happened it started as a sort of interactive journey meditation that became a lot more than that halfway through. Afterwards I was like, what the fuck was that?!? (while I was at the same time fully aware what was happening) — much like after my first orgasm. The answer I got was a very smug grin.

      I definitely agree that that sort of ability can be developed over time. And seeing how it sort of “grew” out of a general energy sensing thing, it makes definitions a little hard. What “counts” as sex? What doesn’t? Can ecstatic union and sex be the same thing (or rather, can sex induce ecstatic union?) — it’s so hard to say what is what. But then again: I’m enjoying myself, and I get the distinct feeling (it’s called union for a reason) that so is He. So at the end of the day I need to ask myself: does it really matter?

      As long as I’m not delusional and conclude that this union thing makes me the Voice of Loki? I really don’t think it matters whether it’s sex or union, or both. He wants it, I want it, let’s go.

      Which reminds me of something: PSVL recently wrote a post on Aedicula Antinoi about mystic experience in monotheistic context. I think his post revolved around the hypothesis that monotheistic mystics mistake God sex for what they call “union”… I have to admit the implication that “monotheists don’t know what they’re doing” kind of struck me as condescending. Perhaps it was, perhaps it wasn’t, I’m not sure… but I thought I’d mention that post because it fits our topic in a way.

      Oh, sorry. I rambled again. *blushes*

      Hope you are well…

      • I suppose it matters in terms of both talking with other people and having some similar-enough definitions that you can have a useful conversation, and (depending on how your mind works) understanding things and putting them into contexts that help make sense of them. Which I think is part of the reason we get so “hung up” on labels for things – because the label has a whole bunch of related context that helps you sort out what’s going on (which is why I am frustrated not knowing how to describe the -other- spirit things I’m doing/involved with – I can describe the actions, but what is the bucket it all fits into?? That might help me compare what I’m doing to what people say “this thing” is like and not like, and think about it, and understand it better, and look for other people doing “this thing.”). Other than that, well, if all the relevant parties enjoy what’s happening, then I suppose it doesn’t matter if it’s “sex” or “union” or the moral equivalent of snuggling on the couch. (“He shows me that “quality time” doesn’t imply “sexy times” at all.” <- Yeah.)

        The button pushing . . . yeah. Well. I've never expect Him to NOT push the BIG BRIGHT FLASHING BUTTONS, and every time I bring up something that's even remotely a button, I feel nervous about it. ha. Actually, though, when He pushed a bunch of the sexual abuse buttons, that was less hard in a lot of ways than when He mashed down a bunch of my fear-of-commitment buttons last year. (I had some horrid nightmares this time, and I was -furious- about some aspects of that, but no big meltdowns (over and over and over).) Knowing that the button-mashing is meant as a form of therapy does help, both in tempering my reaction to what He's doing, and helping me try to figure out what the fuck is -really- going on, so I can do some of the necessary work myself.

        I'm well. Things are busy, and getting busier, and going . . . places. Sudden significant left turns out of nowhere. Not sure if button pushing or other or all of the above. Probably all of the above, if not all at once then spread out over time, because when isn't it. (It is a good sudden left turn, just. Sudden. And out of nowhere. And I'm very limited in what I am allowed to say about it.) Part of what He's said is that it will be "healing" which as I am sure you know, is a nice way to say "button pushing." :D

        I've thought about writing up some stuff about the button pushing/abuse stuff this summer, but partly I am not sure what I would say, other than "here's what happened, and I got to a place of more peace about it." It had some dramatically bad moments (nightmares), but compared to the stuff last year, it didn't feel nearly as big a deal, emotionally. I mean I still spend a lot of time thinking over last year's things, but this summer? I think about it occasionally, but at this point it doesn't seem like it's had nearly the same impact or -weight- or influence. (Granted, breaking some of the commitment-phobia buttons was necessary for a lot of other things to happen, whereas breaking some of the abuse buttons . . . just seems to have made me more relaxed. It's more subtle.)

      • Myriad says:

        Actually, you’re absulutely right that the distinction matters in the ways you mention. Obviously I didn’t think that thought through properly :)

        The problem that I see is that someone might march up to me and tell me, “that isn’t sex” — in fact, you said below that you wouldn’t classify that sort of experience as sex (which is not quite the same thing, I know!). But what is it then? If it feels like sex to me, what should I call it? I mean I don’t even understand HOW it could possibly feel like sex, seeing how I don’t do anything with any of my bodies (physical, astral). It’s purely spiritual, but it does feel like sex, in a way. Re-reading your comment below, I think that what you’re describing and what I’m describing are not so different phenomena. Except that for me, it’s not concentrated exclusively on the heart, it’s more like a full-“body” thing. Arrrgh, so difficult to put into words!!

        So even if there’s an understanding that union and sex are — or at least can be — different things, we still don’t know whether we’re talking about the same thing at all. It’s very frustrating. If you read other mystics, maybe Rumi — there is definitely the question what the fuck that guy was on about. There is a lot of eroticism in his poetry (and wow, the words are so powerful), but I doubt that he ever had “horsed sex” or even “astral sex”. Still, the way he describes his God is… compelling. Following PSVL’s post, Rumi would have had sex, not union. I wonder what Rumi himself would have said to that notion.

        Maybe it’s also a question of what we define as “union” — with all the difficulties that entails. For my part, it is definitely a temporary state. For precious moments, you become a little larger than usual. Things seem to happen simultaneously, thought seems to equal action, just a couple of degrees more than usual. And it ends (must end because fuck knows you’re not built to handle that). These are (imo) “symptoms” of union if you want to call them that.

        Sex itself, I’d probably define indirectly too, via the emotional, energetic, whatever response. It’s about pleasuring one’s partner, and receiving pleasure; also, there often is a certain… hmm, urgency maybe? Probably not as a rule, though. It’s about exchange… of stuff. WHatever that’s made of. Stimulation, yes. But that’s not restricted to the genital area in my book. (Dammit I cannot explain this well, I’m so sorry!)

        The point is though, that these aren’t mutually exclusive. An experience could be either, both, or none of these things. For me, it feels a little like both.

        I think the article PSVL wrote focuses on the possible dangers of abusing union as a legitimation to claim certain powers or rights. And in that light, I agree that it’s definitely something worth considering. But I don’t know whether that makes it a question of either-or discernment or simply a question of not being an utter twat.

        [well, this was an exercise in complete frustration — trying to guess what the common language is between two people to describe spiritual experiences and/or work.]

        I’ve had the button-smashing experience in another area of my life entirely (and unsurprisingly really)… but I hear you on that one, believe me. It’s weird how, afterwards, things just don’t seem as huge anymore. I love that. I actually really, really love that. Getting there can suck big hairy balls, but. Dammit. *bites tongue because would otherwise start gushing*

        I would love to read a post like that. I sometimes feel that my blog is pretty useless for anyone but possibly me (and I’m not even positive on that one). I often think I don’t have anything to say at all. But then I get a message or a fb comment saying that “I love reading you”, or even “I found that very useful”… so while it’s nowhere near as elaborate and savvy as some blogs (Elizabeth’s comes to mind), it’s also not completely useless. But yeah, I definitely understand your trouble posting stuff. Especially when it comes to finding the right level of abstraction. High enough so that someone can work with it and it’s not completely subjective — but not too high, so that it can be understood… :) (I’m sure you’d do fine though!!)

    • Myriad says:

      this is the post I meant, in case you are interested: Polytheist Mysticism and the Dangers of Union.

      • Yeah, I totally believe he’s right, that some of what monotheists have been reporting -has- been what we’d call “god sex” – but I’m not convinced it has all been. That may be based on my definition of “sex,” which requires there to be some level of sexual stimulation/sensation – and I’ve had times of intense connection with Loki where there was none of that, it was all intense emotional connection, and times with just such strong -something- – a reaction from Him I think – that there was intense feeling (emotional and physical-ish) and the imagery of “having one’s heart pierced by an angel’s spear” or however that one saint described it – I get that. In her context, that image makes complete sense given what I felt. It does feel ecstatic, in a way very similar to sexual orgasm, but it wasn’t sexual, all the physical sensation was centered in my chest. (And not that I’m knocking sexual connection, because I enjoy that a lot, but that was /way beyond/ how good sex is as I define it.)

        I’ve had a couple other experiences recently, in other places, with other deities/spirits present, where I felt some kind of . . . something intense, overwhelming emotion, I think maybe on the verge of that kind of “dissolution of boundaries,” and an almost-understanding of something much, much Greater, and left me in tears (one experience did have a strong element of grief/loss in it – but the other didn’t, it was just . . . *fumbles* *waves* if I felt anything from Them, it was – maybe – some kind of, I don’t know, Joy, /way/ beyond what I’ve felt myself, but bigger and more than that, but. argh.) – but I wouldn’t have called those experiences “sex,” and maybe not “divine union” although I think they had elements of the latter.

  5. I’ve been sort of… Confused, studying my relationship with Loki on a sexual basis. What it is He wants, and why, and everything about it. Like you, I don’t really… Have the same “He wants sex all the time and He’s cold and uncaring” and all that. I mean, one time, I -knew- He really wanted to be with me, but I was DEAD tired (unhappily so) and I had a big day for me that I needed at LEAST an hour or two of sleep for. So I grumbled and did it, but then He felt really, well, frustrated and unhappy with me. And I didn’t know what to say or do. (And in the end, I followed someone’s incorrect advice on what they believed had happened.)

    At the time, I told Loki “Can we do it when I get back home, rather than doing it here, in this uncomfortable place (my parent’s house), where I’m dead tired, and not happy about it” and He agreed. Except I was talking to a person at the time, and they said He wanted me to go on with it. I did it, against Loki’s unhappiness regarding my own approach to it (just to do it because it’s a Job because I was told it was what I was supposed to do–by another person) and ended up creating a rather large awkwardness with Loki. For a while, I couldn’t figure out if I was right on my take on Loki’s feelings (that is, my own discernment of the situation) and the person advising me (who was saying something really different). For about two weeks, I stopped talking to Loki. I came back, eventually, of course, and settled things, but I learned some things, too.

    I consider Loki a God of Sex. Except I don’t think that means “sex every day, every hour.” More so: coming to terms, personally, with your own sexuality, your own desires, and enjoying the -act- of sex itself. Being -happy- about the sex you do. (It doesn’t even have to be with Loki or another person–it can even just be masturbation.) I think He’s a God of Acceptance, and that especially means: learning to accept your own sexuality.

    I think that’s the problem, really. I think people mistake “god + sex” and think it’s all about a specific ideal (which is, I think you aptly put as: god porn), but really, it’s not. It’s like when I met with Freyja regarding sex, and She wanted to talk about transgenderism. (Which I never expected or heard of before.) Loki, as well, seems more interested in me enjoying myself, in whatever way that is, and learning to accept my own sexual behaviors. Being a massive love of information, it also includes observing and studying kinky/BDSM, but it also means having sex with Him so that I also enjoyment. In a way, it makes sense. Something about “forced devotion” negates the devotion part. It seems like devotion is a -gift-. It can’t be given unwillingly. Every single time I’ve attempted to give without heart (without my desire to give), the Gods have refused it. And I think that really says something about it all… That they refuse that which isn’t given with desire.

    • Myriad says:

      Please don’t think I’m pushing responsibility for this thing that happened with me on you or even blaming you; I’m not. I know it wasn’t your fault, and I have enough discernment to see that it happened the way it did because I was an idiot (for the most part). That being said: it was when that event you’re referring to in your comment happened between Loki and you that I first began to doubt all this. Specifically about that “cold and uncaring” attitude that… was conspicuously absent in my experience.

      If I think about it now, I’m almost getting angry at the person who advised you. But that’s also wrong, as it was my thing in the end. If there hadn’t been a problem somewhere on my end, I’d have been able to ignore whatever was going on on yours.

      In the end, we both should have trusted our instincts. This is something that I feel is so hard to do: just go with what you’re “hearing” or “getting”, minus what you can discern as your stuff. Some part of me always wants to defer to someone with more experience in discernment. But I’ve had experiences where Loki told me some stuff I didn’t want to hear, even though I was trying to hear them… those instances should be indication enough that if He wants me to get something, He will be able to be louder than me, as long as I keep in mind that He may very well disagree on every major point. Still, as I said, a part of me always wants to defer. It’s a mix of insecurity coupled with the need for a catalyst to propel some development. But the solution is not “someone else”. The solution is learning to act on instinct.

      Btw, I agree that there is an immense sensuality to things that Loki does. I mean, if He enjoys something, He enjoys something. It might be something that you’d consider utterly trivial. Ants, smarties. A flower sticking its head up between cobble stones. It might be food, sex, things that one usually associates with the word “sensuality”. Anyhow: I can see your point about Loki and sex… and although I wouldn’t go as far as to consider Him a God of sex, He’s definitely no prude. No sir. :)

      That last point, I think, is essential. Devotion cannot be forced, it must be given freely, otherwise it’s not devotion. Otherwise it’s just some travesty of something that I feel is immensely valuable to Him (Them all?). There was one time when I also slipped into the pattern of “this is a job I do”, and He told me in no uncertain terms to shove it. That there was no worth to Him in anything I was doing right then. Well. I thought I’d learned my lesson, but apparently it needed repeating. *headdesk*

      “And I think that really says something about it all… That they refuse that which isn’t given with desire”
      Can I hug you for that sentence? <3

      • Hey, I mean. I take blame if there’s blame due <3 I mean, in a way, I shouldn't have trusted another person when my own instincts (and Loki) were screaming "WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?" And I'm sorry that you did face your own doubt and turmoil from it all. (I sort of fear for those who may have listened to my words and said "Yes, that's true," and have it hurt their practice too.)

        I've fallen too much into the trap of "I guess I should suffer and do my job" and having Loki (and Odin) both come in and shout "STOP IT!" because I'm just too prone to that behavior. I guess it's easy to forget we have rights, sometimes, when a lot of the time, I hear "Gods are above you, bow and do whatever they say" (with pepperings of "even if it makes you suffer"). I think that's sort of a sad thing.

        " Devotion cannot be forced, it must be given freely, otherwise it’s not devotion. Otherwise it’s just some travesty of something that I feel is immensely valuable to Him (Them all?). "

        I love that sentence, myself <3

  6. psbey says:

    Reblogged this on Lokeans! .

  7. moonfire2012 says:

    Reblogged this on Lokkakona and commented:
    I’ve been through the same thing myself.

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