Okay so last Tuesday, storm clouds rolled in real heavy and I just felt this weird pull. Like, the air crackled? Got me thinking about those Norse Seidr magic videos I keep seeing. “Become a Modern Völva,” they say. Sounds fancy. Figured, why not give it a shot? Can’t be harder than assembling that wobbly IKEA dresser last week, right? Here’s exactly how my little experiment went down.
Step 1: The Great “Where the Heck Do I Start?” Phase
First, obviously, I hit Google. Didn’t need a PhD in Norse Mythology, just the basics. Found out Völvas were kinda like wise women, seers, used Seidr for trance and prophecy. Felt a bit out of my league, honestly. Coffee is my usual superpower. But hey, the guides promised “easy steps.” Sounded manageable. Key things popped up:
- A Staff: Supposedly a big deal. Grabbed an old walking stick my granddad left behind. Figured it had good vibes.
- A Drum: For rhythm, to get into that trance state. My kid’s bongo drum from music class seemed… close enough?
- A High Seat: Okay, this was tricky. Most pics showed fancy platforms. My sturdy old wooden barstool in the backyard had to suffice. Felt a bit ridiculous perched up there.
- Focus: Needed a question or intention. Mine was super simple: “Just show me something useful today.” Vague? Maybe. But I’m new!
Step 2: Setting Up Shop in the Backyard
Waited until the evening. Clouds were still hanging around, adding some atmosphere. Dragged the barstool out under the big oak tree – felt kinda natural. Plopped the staff leaning against it. Set the little bongo drum on my lap. Felt a mix of silly and serious. Took a few deep breaths, trying to shake off the neighbor’s dog barking next door. Closed my eyes for a sec.
Step 3: The Drumming (& Trying Not to Suck)
Started tapping that bongo drum. No fancy rhythm, just a slow, steady beat. Thump… thump… thump. Tried to sync it with my breathing. In… thump… out… thump. Honestly? Felt awkward for the first few minutes. Mind kept wandering. “Did I leave the stove on?” “That squirrel is watching me.” Had to really try to push those thoughts aside and just listen to the thumping. Focused on the feel of the drum under my fingers, the sound echoing a little in the quiet evening.
Step 4: Closing My Eyes and Hoping For the Best
After a while, maybe five or ten minutes of the drumming, things started to shift. Not fireworks, but… heavier? Like my head felt full of cotton wool. The drum sound seemed louder, even though I was hitting it softer. Kept the beat going. The “Show me something useful” thought floated in my mind, not pushing it, just letting it hang there. Felt really still inside, despite sitting on a wobbly stool. Don’t know if it was the Seidr or just zoning out hardcore, but it felt… different. More focused than my usual meditation fails.
Step 5: The “Oh, That’s Interesting” Moment
No spirit animals or flashes of future lottery numbers, sadly. Just a really clear thought popping into my head – totally unrelated to anything I’d been stressing about. “Call Mrs. Henderson.” Mrs. Henderson? Sweet old lady down the street, I usually wave at her mailbox when I drive by. But the thought felt strong, like an “urgent” ping in my brain. That was it. The drumming sorta faded out as I came back to the yard. Birds were chirping again, the dog had stopped barking. Felt surprisingly… settled.
Step 6: The Aftermath & My Two Cents
Felt a bit stiff climbing off the stool. Grabbed my staff and drum and headed inside. Thought about Mrs. Henderson. Figured, why not? Called her. Turns out, her son had been trying to reach me for days about fixing her leaky gutter (my side hustle). He’d lost my number! She was so relieved I called. Fixed it yesterday.
So, did I “become a modern Völva”? Nah. Felt more like a weirdly specific gut feeling after some rhythmic banging. But here’s the thing:
- Did it work? Well, it solved a practical problem I didn’t know existed, so… sorta?
- Was it magic? Maybe. Or maybe drumming myself into a quiet headspace just let a useful intuition bubble up. Who knows?
- Was it easy? Yeah, honestly. Weird? Absolutely. Needed any special powers? Nope. Just a stool, a makeshift drum, a bit of quiet, and an open mind.
Would I do it again? Yeah, probably next time something feels foggy. If nothing else, it’s cheaper than therapy and the squirrels seem entertained. Worth a shot if you’re curious!
