Even though I’ve been heathen for most of my life (save a few years when I dabbled in Christianity as a preteen – that’s a story that deserves its own writeup), I’ve always been a fairly solitary practitioner. I’m friends with a lot of heathens and kindreds, and get invites to events and holidays by different kindreds, but I’ve been close friends with members of a local kindred for about 8 or 9 years now. I’ve attended most of this kindred’s holiday celebrations and blots and sumbels for many years, except for a bit of a hiatus when I was full time for a busy-but-understaffed funeral home. I was their guest for ECT and got to stay in their cabin, and they volunteered me to help represent them at the Main Ritual that weekend. I’ve been very active with them ever since, and tonight I was invited to their Friendsgiving dinner.

It was a wonderful evening, and I love these folks dearly. They have been great friends for many years, and they were so glad to welcome my return to events when I started my medical break from the mortuary business. I was really incredibly touched by how happy they were to see me again after 2 years of missing out on bonfires and potlucks and sumbels. Tonight, they asked me to join their kindred as an official member.

It’s a great honor, but of course I was a little worried. This kindred’s name is based on one of Baldr’s sons, and prides itself on it’s no drama/no trickery way of life. We all know the story of Loki and Baldr, so I had to be sure they were very much aware of who they were inviting.

“We would like you to join our kindred.”

“That’s an honor! But are you sure you want a Lokian?”

“Oh yes, we’ve discussed that. You’re a truly good person, and we love you and what you contribute. We’ve known people who claim to be Lokean but just use that as an excuse for bad behavior. You’re not like that at all, and we want you to be officially part of our kindred.”

At this moment, one of the votive candles on the dinner table fucking exploded.

I looked at the carnage, then looked back up at my friends. “Okay, seriously. Are you really sure you want a Lokian?”

Nervous laughter. “Umm, yes? Some might even consider that to be a good omen.”

“Yeah, he’s not subtle. You’re really, really sure?”

Can’t say I didn’t warn them!

In a wonderful show of frith, at the sumbel that followed, they told me I was more than welcome to raise the horn to Loki. It’s generally considered bad form to toast Himself in group ritual because of the controversial figure he cuts within the community, but tonight I finally got to toast the Sly One in a group setting. I feel even closer now to these friends, and I’m so very, very glad that they have opened their ritual to include Loki. That means so much to me that I’m a bit overwhelmed with joy and appreciation for it.

Yes, I took the broken votive home. Yes it is on my altar for Himself.

I’m not yet an official member of the kindred, but I’m giving it a lot of consideration. I’m happy to be a part of this group of people and to spend time with them as they are wonderful friends. I have been active with them for many years, and I look forward to continuing to work with them for years to come.

I just hope they know what they’re getting themselves into. Exploding votives are only a small taste of what’s to come. Us fox types can be a handful, to say the least. And Loki really isn’t a subtle, quiet creature. But so long as we’re honest with ourselves and with each other, great fun will be had!

P. S. If someone spontaneously coughs to the point of regurgitation, the Lokian response is to bypass the paper towels and fling a paper plate at said person instead, then run outside to chain smoke until everything is resolved inside. I’m useful in many situations, but that is not one of them.