About Rhyd Wildermuth

An intractable tea-swilling leftist-punk bard, Rhyd Wildermuth has left bits of his heart(h) everywhere—in a satyr’s den in Berlin, hanging from an elder tree over a holy well in Bretagne, scattered in back alleys of Seattle, and lost somewhere in the bottom of his rucksack. He’s devoted to Welsh gods, breathes words, makes candles, plays recorder, fumbles with tech, and refuses ever to learn to drive. He also writes at paganarch.com.

Missing The Forest

Sacred Heart

I found home.At least for now.  You never quite know how things go.  Love, calamity, poverty, gentrification, fires, earthquakes...things fall apart quicker than you can ever guess.  A policeman could shoot an unarmed kid and the whole town erupts in riot because they do this all the time and they've finally had enough, and maybe the place you live gets teargassed and you have to leave.  Or maybe you could be the kid, and then you really end up having to leave, even though you'll stick aro … [Read more...]

Where They May Be Found: Dionysos

Pine tree

  Under Pine, Pining Behind words are other words.  Hidden, shadowed meanings, dancing in the edges we imagine are solid, like the borders between realms.  The closer to the boundried contours of the word and not the word,  definition slips.  Define a word, de-fine, show us its edges, its limits, its end.A word means another word, but what means means?  What is the meaning of meaning? What does meaning mean?I'm not playing with you, but play with me, play with this if you've time … [Read more...]

A Call To War

AAA

Editors’ Note: This article is part of the Public Square 2014 Summer Series: Conversations on Religious Trends. Read other perspectives from the Pagan community here.This is all awfully tragic, isn't it?I mean the earth dying, mass extinctions, poisoned rivers, irreversible shifts in climate that will eventually make certain areas of the world un-livable and others utterly miserable.All that damage, the stuff we and our descendents will be living through for the next several cent … [Read more...]

Where They May Be Found: Brighid

Photo by Nick Ferro

In a Barn, With Queers, With Curry I have dreamt more on Brighid than I quite know how to understand.Once, I was in a wooden hovel.  Herbs hung from rafters, and I was cooking, but I was not me, but Her.  Or, rather, I was there on Her behalf, and I was cooking for people full of lustful desire for each other and others.  An odd dream, one I never fully understood.And then a little more than a year later, I was standing in a barn, cooking.  It was the place in the dream, but it was lar … [Read more...]

Where They May Be Found: Ceridwen

Photo credit: Kevin Freitas

Maybe you know the story.  A goddess had two children: one beautiful, one hideous.  And because she knew that beauty didn't really matter all that much, or because she knew that it only mattered to others, that it was a way to elicit attention from others, to get others to think you worth their time she decided she'd give her son wisdom.She could have given him power, or wealth, the usual substitutes for beauty.  With money he could have maybe afforded braces so that he'd look like what ev … [Read more...]

Where They May Be Found: Cernunnos

Apparently, I took this photo.

I actually don't know where He's found, but I took a man hunting for him.Actually, how do you hunt a god?  You don't, really.  They hunt you.  Or maybe you hunt them as the hunted hunt the hunter, or haunt the hunter.I don't know much about Cernunnos.  Others do, and have some awfully good recommendations on how to find Him.  I've only seen him once, maybe twice.  It's strange to write about a god you don't know personally and tell others where he might be found.  Mayhaps even presum … [Read more...]

Where They May Be Found: Arianrhod

Pond_in_a_forest_clearing_bgiu

"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars."--Oscar Wilde In What Earth Sees of Sky I was once told by a man in a dream to look for the gods in the rain, and what's in-between the rain. But I don't meet Arianrhod in the rain, but what's before and what's after.A decade ago I began staring at puddles again. Ever done this? Since you were a kid, I mean, playing in the little lakes upon stone, pooling water from rains standing still as glass until you stomp them? … [Read more...]


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