Wintruz Sistō bioregional rite

The written rite here was performed by me at Cilurnum (Chesters Roman fortress and Bathhouse) on Hadrians Wall, while Tristan and Sam did their own different ritual in the dunes at Riverside County. We were separated by thousands of miles (Northumbrian country/California badlands) in a mutual act of the halting of the sun’s entropy, the light returning to stream solward, as the days now grow longer.

Sitting in the Roman bathhouse facing the River Tyne, beside a sheep farm, and galdoring runic seeds to kindle the fires of the central axis
:U: (grounded point)
:A: (mind)
:I: (gut)
:E: (heart)
:O: (core)

Repeated this until the seed sounds blended together, the chest as the resonance chamber, and echoing in the skull. A blazing wheel of light as each runic hvel is galdored. (later reflecting on this, I can see the symbolic lighting up of each runic hvel/wheel as I galdored them as the brightness and light coming back to the folk. Internally, the Lik is emblazoned with a brighter effulgence of inner light) The movement draws the rune current/reiki inwards then outwards, non stopping, like a Torus that expands and contracts in all and into one.

Sounding the steer horn several times loudly in the portal windows, and then chanting stanzas from the Havamal for the conquest of nature. ALE runes drawn over my horn. :A:L:E: becoming intoxicated on the Lindisfarne mead, then I poured some on the foundation, and read off the prose I had written

Dyrmegin, ally, and guide
Lead me where others cannot access
In the astral, and places of awe

Dyrmegin, bandamann, og fylgja
Leiða mig þar sem aðrir geta ekki opnað
Í Astral, og stöðum ótti

Taking draughts of mead and intoning of :WINTRUZ: (WIIIINNNN-TRUUUUZZZZ) with deep throat singing. The sound reverberated in the stone walls, and out onto the other rooms. I was left unbothered for the duration of the ritual.

Remember the folk at Yule
Hail the gods and goddesses
Stave off the fimbul winter
and let us come out of the dark cold nights
with fire in our blood
and a hearth in our house
and good company

ARAHARI chanting in the portal windows, blowing the horn again several times as the sky darkened and :Jera: spun round, so that we may grow and wax in the new year.

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