Bean Sidhe, Women of the Mounds
One of the most iconic and well known of all the spirits and Gods of Gaelic Myth and Lore is the Wailing spirit known as The Banshee
For Banshee's do not bring death, nor do they cause it, they are not killers
The proof of her bond and her devotion to her Clan is her comb. Banshee carry a comb carved of the leg bone of one of the families great heroes. And you'd do well to remember that the Banshee does not take her role lightly, she truly cares for the family. Keeping the chronicles of their history, watching over them and even washing the bloody clothes of those to die before they are stained. This duty of care for her clan is the most precious part of a Banshee's existence, symbolized modestly in her humble comb. Anyone attempting to steal her comb from her invites death upon themselves and their family as she represents both their protection and destruction.
So should YOU see an old but beautiful woman, or perhaps a younger woman whose eyes betray the weight and wisdom of her years softly singing to herself while combing her hair. Offer to her your time and kindness, comb her hair, tell her a story or sing her a song. You very well might have encountered the herald and historian of your clan.-HR
@Hyperborean Radio (Uncensored)
One of the most iconic and well known of all the spirits and Gods of Gaelic Myth and Lore is the Wailing spirit known as The Banshee
(Bean Sidhe) though they are also some of the most maligned and misunderstood of all the Fae. For Banshee's do not bring death, nor do they cause it, they are not killers
-no more than any of us really- they are in truth mourners, her wail is that of true and deepest mourning for the death of a great and noble hero, they just learn of it before we mortals do -Time between realms has never really been consistent-
You see, A Banshee is in reality an ancestral spirit or "Faerie Woman" that heralds the imminent death of a beloved family member. Not just of any family though, HER family. Her keening or wailing may only be heard by the family itself. However, on occasion, a hero can be so important to the land and people that the Banshee's wail can be heard by all!The proof of her bond and her devotion to her Clan is her comb. Banshee carry a comb carved of the leg bone of one of the families great heroes. And you'd do well to remember that the Banshee does not take her role lightly, she truly cares for the family. Keeping the chronicles of their history, watching over them and even washing the bloody clothes of those to die before they are stained. This duty of care for her clan is the most precious part of a Banshee's existence, symbolized modestly in her humble comb. Anyone attempting to steal her comb from her invites death upon themselves and their family as she represents both their protection and destruction.
So should YOU see an old but beautiful woman, or perhaps a younger woman whose eyes betray the weight and wisdom of her years softly singing to herself while combing her hair. Offer to her your time and kindness, comb her hair, tell her a story or sing her a song. You very well might have encountered the herald and historian of your clan.-HR
@Hyperborean Radio (Uncensored)
🔥11
This Weeks Episode - Be Kind:
Strength, Courage, Wisdom. Be Kind for Your Kind.
New Episodes Wednesday's at 6 AM EST
or Join Patreon for Early Episodes
Listen on your favorite platform or
Spotify
Apple Podcast
Google Podcasts
Radio Public
HyperboreanRadio.Com
Strength, Courage, Wisdom. Be Kind for Your Kind.
New Episodes Wednesday's at 6 AM EST
or Join Patreon for Early Episodes
Listen on your favorite platform or
Spotify
Apple Podcast
Google Podcasts
Radio Public
HyperboreanRadio.Com
🔥3👏3❤1
New Addition to HyperboreanRadio.com- Frau Harke
Do you know of Frau Harke? Her tales? ...Her story's beginning -or perhaps it's somewhere in the middle- no matter.
Harke was, ...is? Well is; a God for the young, and not so young. She is, and probably always will be as rambunctious as any young Giant could ever be expected to be. Forever in possession of all the playful and destructive curiosity of any young girl. But when she was young, ...Truly young that is; she was barely as tall as an oak tree, truly no more than a little girl by Giant standards. And she very well still might be.
She has always been curious 'as is a child's nature', and simply enthralled with the small folk, finding us the most interesting creatures. One day, when she was out exploring. Well, This was when Lady Harke came upon a farmer and his oxen plowing a field. And as children oft do... Well that is a story for another time I suppose. There was something about her father... Or maybe it was her guardian? Either way, no matter now. Yes! That is surely a t....
Read the Rest or Listen to the Audio Book Here
Complete with an audio file the latest addition to the Germania & The Alps Section of the Archives Frau Harke, Playful Hill Giant.-
Do you know of Frau Harke? Her tales? ...Her story's beginning -or perhaps it's somewhere in the middle- no matter.
Harke was, ...is? Well is; a God for the young, and not so young. She is, and probably always will be as rambunctious as any young Giant could ever be expected to be. Forever in possession of all the playful and destructive curiosity of any young girl. But when she was young, ...Truly young that is; she was barely as tall as an oak tree, truly no more than a little girl by Giant standards. And she very well still might be.
She has always been curious 'as is a child's nature', and simply enthralled with the small folk, finding us the most interesting creatures. One day, when she was out exploring. Well, This was when Lady Harke came upon a farmer and his oxen plowing a field. And as children oft do... Well that is a story for another time I suppose. There was something about her father... Or maybe it was her guardian? Either way, no matter now. Yes! That is surely a t....
Read the Rest or Listen to the Audio Book Here
Hyperborean Radio
Fräulein Harke, Playful Hill Giant — Hyperborean Radio
🥰6
Like many I find as the leaves start to turn and the wind has that bitter blustery chill that my thoughts turn to death and the dead, but also to the living and those yet to come. There isn't something quite so apt for contemplation as the Fall Winds.
At this time I think of the people around me and the people who came before, I think of spirits and family, ghosts and goblins. But I also think of a God, or I guess you could call him a God he is also a spirit, specifically a spirit of a people or Volkgeist if you wish to use my ancestors Mother Tongue. His name is Wotan, he dwells in all of us who are made of German flesh and spirit. From the high Alps down through the valleys of the Rhineland and across the seas and shores where we wandered. Through vineyards and forests, in the hunt and the harvest. He is the storm, the wildfire, the roar and cacophony of battle. But also the fireside tales and bedtime stories read by Grand Mother or Grand Father. Sometimes I can feel him waiting, though that is not something peculiar to me. He resides in all of us watching from within, the Furious One, Wotan.
-I.M.Knosp
@Hyperborean Radio (Uncensored)
At this time I think of the people around me and the people who came before, I think of spirits and family, ghosts and goblins. But I also think of a God, or I guess you could call him a God he is also a spirit, specifically a spirit of a people or Volkgeist if you wish to use my ancestors Mother Tongue. His name is Wotan, he dwells in all of us who are made of German flesh and spirit. From the high Alps down through the valleys of the Rhineland and across the seas and shores where we wandered. Through vineyards and forests, in the hunt and the harvest. He is the storm, the wildfire, the roar and cacophony of battle. But also the fireside tales and bedtime stories read by Grand Mother or Grand Father. Sometimes I can feel him waiting, though that is not something peculiar to me. He resides in all of us watching from within, the Furious One, Wotan.
-I.M.Knosp
@Hyperborean Radio (Uncensored)
❤8❤🔥4
Werewolves
You probably think werewolves shapeshift? They don't!
They were not men in wolf form but wolves in man form. Twas their soul not their flesh. Yet the ones I speak of, of blood and bone with the brutality and savagery of those Werewolves of yore those were simply Men who knew themselves more than most today can comprehend.
They had all the savagery, wildness and kindness that exists in all of us. That subtle call to the mountain woods, live or die. They were called Werewolves among other monstrous names to terrify those the Church had ensnared. To them they were fearsome to behold. Built with all the power of the wild, sinews like braided steel, strength of mountain stone, fingertips able to rend flesh as predators claw, hair wild and untamed, their hair shorn by fire or tree-limb just as the Auroch or Boar. The effect an impressive mane of fury incarnate. Beneath that the piercing, knowing eyes of a Forest God. Naturally to those civilized and living in fear they appear to be beasts incarnate.
Wolfmen if you will.
But they were not cursed beasts, at least no more than you or I have the potential to be. This is the Werewolf, the true self within each and every one of us waiting to be free. Though we may try to suppress it, deny it, but in the end if what many have seen in the woods to be true. The Truth will Out! For stripped to feel the sun, the kill, the breath and the blood of their quarry. Our people hunt in secret the way of our ancestors with claw and strike to once more taste THE TRUE FREEDOM OF THE HUNT!
Werewolves are not Monstrous men, no... it is us who are the misshapen domesticated monsters who deny our true selves. Who we are when we are Wild and Free.
@Hyperborean Radio (Uncensored)
You probably think werewolves shapeshift? They don't!
They were not men in wolf form but wolves in man form. Twas their soul not their flesh. Yet the ones I speak of, of blood and bone with the brutality and savagery of those Werewolves of yore those were simply Men who knew themselves more than most today can comprehend.
They had all the savagery, wildness and kindness that exists in all of us. That subtle call to the mountain woods, live or die. They were called Werewolves among other monstrous names to terrify those the Church had ensnared. To them they were fearsome to behold. Built with all the power of the wild, sinews like braided steel, strength of mountain stone, fingertips able to rend flesh as predators claw, hair wild and untamed, their hair shorn by fire or tree-limb just as the Auroch or Boar. The effect an impressive mane of fury incarnate. Beneath that the piercing, knowing eyes of a Forest God. Naturally to those civilized and living in fear they appear to be beasts incarnate.
Wolfmen if you will.
But they were not cursed beasts, at least no more than you or I have the potential to be. This is the Werewolf, the true self within each and every one of us waiting to be free. Though we may try to suppress it, deny it, but in the end if what many have seen in the woods to be true. The Truth will Out! For stripped to feel the sun, the kill, the breath and the blood of their quarry. Our people hunt in secret the way of our ancestors with claw and strike to once more taste THE TRUE FREEDOM OF THE HUNT!
Werewolves are not Monstrous men, no... it is us who are the misshapen domesticated monsters who deny our true selves. Who we are when we are Wild and Free.
@Hyperborean Radio (Uncensored)
🔥9❤🔥1
Ancestor Veneration Begins with The Living
Recently someone close to us weathered the death of a treasured family member, in the aftermath he discovered something his treasured Mother wrote of her Father
This heartfelt description of her father begins as such:
"Although he is a big man with a gruff voice which spouts curse words at regular intervals, he has a heart that envelopes everyone around him. I have seen him quiet a whimpering small child and save a grown man's life."
and by the end of this short loving bit of prose:
"Of all the persons I've known, this man has influenced me the most, not only because he is my daddy but because he is also my friend, who laughs and jokes with me, and my guide, who gives me advice and warns me about the world. Daddy may be a stern and severe father at times, but most of the time he is my "Freckled Atlas" who looks after me and loves me."
Reading this while I bear no ties to the family of my friend the love and adoration our friends mother held for his grandfather brought a tear to my eye and reminded me of something incredibly important.
Ancestor Veneration Begins with the Living. Remind your parents, your grandparents and all of your family how much they mean to you. They may not be here tomorrow, you may not be here tomorrow, but that love between each other will.
@Hyperborean Radio (Uncensored)
Recently someone close to us weathered the death of a treasured family member, in the aftermath he discovered something his treasured Mother wrote of her Father
-His Grandfather- a short recollection of a man who was her "Freckled Atlas" who raised her well with warmth and a firm hand when needed. This heartfelt description of her father begins as such:
"Although he is a big man with a gruff voice which spouts curse words at regular intervals, he has a heart that envelopes everyone around him. I have seen him quiet a whimpering small child and save a grown man's life."
and by the end of this short loving bit of prose:
"Of all the persons I've known, this man has influenced me the most, not only because he is my daddy but because he is also my friend, who laughs and jokes with me, and my guide, who gives me advice and warns me about the world. Daddy may be a stern and severe father at times, but most of the time he is my "Freckled Atlas" who looks after me and loves me."
Reading this while I bear no ties to the family of my friend the love and adoration our friends mother held for his grandfather brought a tear to my eye and reminded me of something incredibly important.
Ancestor Veneration Begins with the Living. Remind your parents, your grandparents and all of your family how much they mean to you. They may not be here tomorrow, you may not be here tomorrow, but that love between each other will.
@Hyperborean Radio (Uncensored)
❤11
New Broadcast! -Hyperborean Radio (Uncensored)-
This thing on?... Ah Let's See..... There We Go 369 kHz Celtic God and The Lore Keeper in The Morning. Your Roughneck Pagan Uncles, You Wish You Had and are Glad You Don’t! Speaking of Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Homeland. As well as perhaps most importantly; the truths we all know but others fear to whisper.
Tribal Identity:
This one is probably going to hurt some feelings: Tribal Identity, what is it? Why is it important? Do you know your own tribe?, which includes yourself.
New Episodes Wednesday's at 6 AM EST
or Join Patreon for Early Episodes
Listen on your favorite platform or
Spotify
Apple Podcast
Google Podcasts
Radio Public
HyperboreanRadio.Com
This thing on?... Ah Let's See..... There We Go 369 kHz Celtic God and The Lore Keeper in The Morning. Your Roughneck Pagan Uncles, You Wish You Had and are Glad You Don’t! Speaking of Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Homeland. As well as perhaps most importantly; the truths we all know but others fear to whisper.
Tribal Identity:
This one is probably going to hurt some feelings: Tribal Identity, what is it? Why is it important? Do you know your own tribe?, which includes yourself.
New Episodes Wednesday's at 6 AM EST
or Join Patreon for Early Episodes
Listen on your favorite platform or
Spotify
Apple Podcast
Google Podcasts
Radio Public
HyperboreanRadio.Com
👏6❤2
So many people share Lore Inaccurate Buff Óðinn, so few people share homeless man with a bloody dagger and a bottle of wine Óðinn.
@Hyperborean Radio (Uncensored)
@Hyperborean Radio (Uncensored)
🔥17👍3🤓1