During our journeys, we kept seeing recurring signs and symbols, runes, tridents, sun-corsses and sigils like landmarks of a sacred terrain or sunrays shining forth from the heart of Europa. In old places of power, that are perhaps obscure but still not beyond reach, we kept coming in contact with something strong and sacred. Pilgrimage does not necessarily imply going to far-off lands; more importantly, one should seek the soil one is rooted in.
We also kept seeing the signs of Ragnarök, the twilight of the gods, "an axe-age, a sword age, when no man will have mercy on another." In Indian tradition, this is called the Kali Yuga, a time of degeneration and disintegration of human civilization. The men of Kali Yuga seek only money, and everything is for sale, including water, pre-made food, and even the teachings and sacraments. Religiously, the Kali Yuga is defined by mutually exclusive monotheistic religions, and the intolerance, oppression, and terrorism they unleash upon the world.
In all our travels, we tried to connect and communicate with the spirit of the places in a way that would be beyond mere "looking". We approached them as one approaches the holy: we raised horns, poured libations, lit incense, offered flowers and spoke sincere words of intent.
We learned that the gods may not be dead after all, although their statues are few and far between, their names mostly forgotten and even more rarely invoked, and their places of power -mountains, hilltops, caves, forests, riverbanks- now house churches or monuments of a monotheist, totalitarian faith or otherwise lie in obscurity. The gods live on, in us. They lie in a slumber and whisper to us if we dare to listen. And when we call upon them, they awaken.
According to the Indian tradition of pilgrimage, wanderers are beloved by Shiva, and the feeding of wanderers is considered a duty and a merit. Our horn was shared by many mouths. A sincere Thank You is in order to all who we crossed paths with under good signs, and especially those who housed, honored and fed us during our travels. “One never reaches home, but where paths that have an affinity for each other intersect, the whole world looks like home, for a time.” - H.H.