The Python Dream and Completing my Uthark Journey

It feels a bit weird to write a final post about my Uthark journey before writing about Othala and Fehu, the final two runes. But I haven't had time to sit down and blog about them. The Year of the Fire Horse is fast approaching, and things are already starting to speed up. While I have to prioritise the most important tasks, the loose ends are being neatly tied off, in anticipation of the Universal Year 1 in 2026—a personal year 5 for me. In 2025, I have been building a new foundation, and this Uthark journey forms a stable base for what is to come. I know this now, without a doubt, because I have no inclination to just copy someone else's UPG about the Uthark rune row. 

I don't agree 100% with any of the authors who have informed this journey, and that is how it should be when you have a living relationship with the runes. The runes are entities in their own right. Their consciousness both informs and adapts to each individual's psychospiritual wiring.

For me, Othala comes after Dagaz—and yes, I changed my mind on this. Not long ago, I would have had it the other way around, but when I went deeper on this journey, the truth became apparent in my meditations. Dagaz has to follow Inguz before the inheritance of Othala can be passed on. 

After this, we have Fehu, the ecstatic, dancing bovine divine feminine. This is Shakti who moves and animates all life in a constant exchange with Shiva. On the first day of working with Fehu, I woke up to the words 'I AM fire, I AM fire, I AM fire.' The same day, this inner voice guided me to pick up the book 'Tantric Jesus,' and so many pieces of the jigsaw started falling into place.

Uruz is also Shakti, so the Uthark is bookended by the Divine Feminine, just like life itself is enclosed by the circle of life, death and rebirth, without end. Amenet.

Circling back to the beginning of the Uthark, I now also see Thurisaz in a different light. I see Thurisaz as the son and consort of the divine feminine. A primordial dragon, like her, but incomplete, like the demiurge. Here we have half of Inguz, attached to a stick (not quite, but you get me). 

The divine masculine can only become complete through sacrifice, like the seed of Inguz being buried in the soil of Jord. Then, and only then, we have the illumination that follows in Dagaz. Odin knew this well. This is, of course, true for each of us as individuals, too, regardless of gender identity. As above, so below; as without, so within. 

My Python Dream

A few nights ago, I had a vivid and deeply embodied dream that brought everything full circle.

I was lying on the ground, fully present in my body, when I became aware of a large python approaching me. There was no fear. No sense of threat. Instead, there was an unmistakable feeling of ancient intelligence. The python began to slither up my body, slowly and deliberately, its weight and movement unmistakably real. It moved from my feet, along my legs and torso, until it reached my chest and throat. Then it lifted its head and looked me directly in the eye.

There was recognition.

After that moment of eye contact — calm, sovereign, and intimate — the python continued on its way and disappeared from view. The dream ended there, but the knowing remained.

This was not a symbol of danger, nor a message of conquest or domination. The python was Shakti in her most primordial form: the living, serpentine current of life force itself. Unlike the ecstasy of Fehu or the raw power of Uruz, this was coiled wisdom, patient and embodied. The python does not rush. She inhabits.

In the context of my Uthark journey, this dream felt like confirmation that the current I have been working with has fully descended into the body. Not rising to escape matter, but entering it — sanctifying it. This is the mystery of Inguz fulfilled: the seed fully planted in the earth of the self. It is also the quiet authority of Othala, inheritance not as something claimed, but something remembered at a cellular level.

The python’s upward movement mirrored the full circuit of the Uthark — from primal force to conscious embodiment — without bypassing anything. She did not strike. She did not constrict. She did not need to. Her power lay in presence alone.

Looking back, I see now that this dream is not an ending, but a seal. A somatic “yes.” The runes have not merely been studied or meditated upon — they have been lived, digested, and integrated. The inheritance has been passed on, not through intellect or tradition, but through direct gnosis.

The serpent did not stay because she didn’t need to. Once recognition occurred, the work was complete.

And so, the circle closes — not with finality, but with continuity. The living current moves on, as it always does.

Love,
Lisa x

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