The Icelandic Hidden Ones
After my firsthand physical experience with Otherworldly heavenly energetic forms in 1997, I concluded that there would also be earthly energetic forms commonly referred to as faëries and elves. This conclusion flowed from my experience, which is termed the Visitation and many Otherworldly experiences from an intuitive-feeling sense, scholarly knowledge, and oral teachings from elders around the world. My family and I did experience items missing and later showing up after journeying to Cornwall, England; a trait of the Cornish faëries known as piskies. As with life, it might not have been the piskies playing tricks on us but our own human forgetfulness. In other words, my conclusion stayed a conclusion until my experience with the Hidden Ones in Iceland. I had journeyed to Iceland with my son and one of our students. For the first part of our journey, we were exploring the most magical region of Iceland, Snaefellsnes Peninsula and its volcano, Snaefellsjokull. Jules Verne used this volcano as the setting for his novel Journey to the Centre of the Earth. This is a mystical and strange land where the Hidden Ones such as elves and dwarves hide in dark crevices and caves while strange rock formations are ogres and trolls. This is the land of fire and ice. It is nature in all its glory creative and destructive as though it may be. The wind, the sea and the hundreds of waterfalls vibrate a song of primal pureness seldom found elsewhere on our beautiful but wounded earth. It is important to follow a few spiritual protocols. These are not dogma and doctrine based but are rooted in common sense and respect for the Spirit World. Asking permission of the Otherworld to conduct our spirit work is one that we follow faithfully and teach to our students. When we travel to a new place or return to one, it is best to do prayers, an offering, which could be as simple as a piece of our hair, and ask permission to be there and do our work. I also ask for safety for myself and others while we are on our journey. Sometimes this rite is short and simple and at other times more extensive and intense. There is no format to follow just your heart. Soon as I set foot in this magical land I felt a strong connection and kinship. For this reason, early the next morning facing the shroud covered volcano with the icy winds crashing into me I did an extensive and complete rite of permission. At least I thought I did. This is virgin land. Virgin in the sense that the New Agers have not discovered it and few tourists spend any time here. This is not only unspoiled land but it is home to many legends and myths and one of the most famous Icelandic Viking shamans—Bárður. This legendary shaman was born in Northern Norway and his grandmother was a Sami who passed on her shamanic and magical knowledge to him. One of the sacred sites on the edge of the volcano is known as the Singing Cave. This is Bárður’s cave where he would spend time conducting his shamanic practice. Since it was October, we were just about guarantee to be the only ones visiting the various sacred sites on the peninsula. Late in the afternoon on the second day, we spent extended time within the Singing Cave. As its name indicates one of the most obvious and important practices to conduct here would be Galdr—Norse magical chant. Once again, I needed to make myself known to the Spirit World and ask permission to enter the cave and do our work. Once inside I conducted a blessing, honoring and opening ceremony. Then we proceeded with other practices including an old magical chant. The sound from our voices vibrated off of the cave walls and once more Bárður’s cave was singing. We spent another day and half on the peninsula before we returned to Reykjavik, the Capital of Iceland. While in Reykjavik, we stayed at the Four-Star Grand Hotel. This would be our residence for the final days of our journey. The Grand Hotel is beautiful. However, I did not choose it for its star rating or its beauty; but for the Grand Hotel’s honoring of Norse mythology. When you enter the hotel you are greeted with a phenomenal glass artwork portraying the creation of the world based on the Völuspá, the first and best known poem of the Poetic Edda. Their front desk is decorated with small poems from the Poetic Edda’s Hávamál, which provides advice for living, proper conduct and wisdom. Staying here captures the feeling and essence of their Norse ancestors who settled here after leaving Norway. My room was on the twelfth floor overlooking the ocean and the fog-covered Snaefellsnes Peninsula. Even though the hotel’s focus was on mythology, it was your typical and very ordinary hotel; or so I thought. The next day we were leaving early to explore Thingvellir National Park, the location where Iceland’s parliament or Althing was founded. Heeding the advice early to bed and early to raise, I turned in around ten o’clock. I had only been asleep a few minutes before the phone began ringing. Answering it, a voice said, “I’m calling to make sure the four Russian’s we sent over arrived safely since we’re over-booked here.” I proceeded to say this was a private room and not the front desk and promptly hung up to keep myself from totally waking up. A few more minutes passed until the phone rang once again. This time the voice spoke Icelandic until I kept saying I didn’t understand and they finally said in English, “is this not the front desk?” Hanging up once again and crawling back to bed, I thought what is going on…” The phone constantly kept ringing until I wised-up and unplugged the phone at two in the morning. The next morning after breakfast, I plugged the phone back in and once again the calls began all wanting information from the front desk. Realizing this was not a fluke, I informed the front desk about this strange occurrence. They extensively apologized and said that they would look into it with the caveat that this had never happened before and was seemly impossible. After a full day of exploring Thingvellir, I checked in at the front desk before going back to my room. The problem had been fixed but there was no explanation on how it happened. There was no physical reason to explain it as it was impossible to have happened but it did. Later that night, as I was pondering this mystery, it finally came to me—the Hidden Ones. I had forgotten to include them in my prayers. And they will let you know if they have been offended or slighted in some manner. I immediately did prayers and an offering to them. The result: the rest of our journey was uneventful. Is this the end of my story? Not at all, it seems that one or more decided to hop a ride on our flight home and now reside with us on another peninsula—this one happens to be in Washington State overlooking the only fjord in the western continental United States!