Reflections from the Community Circle
We gathered for this month’s circle at a liminal moment in the seasonal cycle. Beltane, a Celtic fire festival, marks the turning of the wheel toward fullness and light. But beyond its cultural origins, this is a time when the veils between the worlds grow thin—an opportunity to listen more closely to the land, the ancestors, and the unseen.
In the runic calendar, the weeks following Beltane usher in the half-months of four powerful runes: Laguz, Inguz, Othala, and Dagaz. All four can be worked with as gateway runes—thresholds for transition, initiation, and spiritual movement. This circle was dedicated to Inguz, whose diamond or helix form opens a portal into spaces waiting to be re-born.
Rune of the Seed: Containment, Death, and Rebirth
At its simplest, Inguz is often described as the seed. But that simplicity is deceptive.
A seed is not inert. It holds an entire life in suspension. When we speak of Inguz as a seed rune, we’re speaking about gestation—a period of quiet transformation, of waiting in the dark. It is the seed’s time in the soil before it sprouts, the inner journey that prepares us for outer change.
Inguz appears only in the Anglo-Saxon rune poem, where it is described in sparse but evocative terms. One version of the poem reads:
“Ing was first seen among the East-Danes,
until, followed by his cart, he departed eastward
over the waves. So the Heardingas named the hero.”
Other translations render it simply:
“Ing went eastward over the sea and returned;
thus the people named the hero.”
The poem offers little explanation—only a movement away, and a movement back. Yet this cycle of sacrifice and renewal is mirrored in many mythic and seasonal narratives. Some associate Inguz with the Green Man or the sacrificed corn god: figures who die into the land to be reborn through it. Others connect it to the Vanir god Freyr, or to the ancestral goddess Nerthus—deities of fertility, sovereignty, and sacred union.
Whether read mythically or energetically, Inguz is the rune of something becoming. It holds space for what is not yet visible—but already stirring beneath the surface.
Inguz and the Gateway Runes
One of the themes explored in the circle is how Inguz sits within the final aett (rune family) of the Elder Futhark—where the focus shifts from individual strength to collective and spiritual maturity. In this final sequence, we find:
Tiwaz – divine will and right action
Berkano – the womb and birthing
Ehwaz – partnership and movement
Mannaz – human consciousness and kinship
Laguz – the waters of life and spirit
Inguz – the seed of gestation and rebirth
Othala – ancestral land and legacy
Dagaz – the daybreak, or threshold of awakening
Taken together, Laguz, Inguz, Othala, and Dagaz form a powerful sequence of gateways—each one leading us into a deeper relationship with the cycle of life, death, rebirth, and spirit. From now until the summer solstice, the energy of these runes is especially alive. They invite us to listen through the soil, to speak with the waters, and to cross into new phases of our own becoming.
Practices for working with Inguz
As part of the circle, I offered a training on the origins, symbolism, and seasonal relevance of the Inguz rune. From there, we stepped into shared exploration—bringing our insights, questions, and lived experience into the space. Together, the group identified a number of practical and creative ways to work with the energy of Inguz, many of which reflected its power as a rune of sacred containment and subtle transformation.
Here are some of the practices that emerged:
🌒 Rune as Container or Grid
Crafting the Inguz rune physically—using twigs, stones, or string—can create a charging plate or ritual grid. Objects, runes, or intentions placed within the diamond or helix of Inguz are “gestating” within its field. One suggestion was to create the form at the new moon and charge it throughout a full lunar cycle—an act of conscious seeding and emergence.
🌿 Engaging with the Land
Using the Inguz shape as a frame, it can be held up to scan the landscape—a form of intuitive divination or energetic sensing. When we do this, we may be drawn to thresholds in the land: edges, doorways, hidden wells, old trees, or forgotten footpaths. These “thinner” places offer opportunities to leave offerings, deepen connection with spirit allies, or begin healing work with land that has been disrupted or neglected.
🌀 Ritual and Talisman Creation
A long-standing personal practice I shared involves crafting small Inguz talismans from natural materials—twigs gathered respectfully, bound with spun thread. These are ritually charged and then placed in specific locations: gardens, altars, or natural sites in need of spiritual tending. Some are buried after a season as a gesture of completion. Others remain in place to mark a year’s cycle.
🌾 Seed Work and Womb Healing
Inguz can be a potent support for fertility, creative gestation, and energetic healing of the womb and ovaries. When visualised within or alongside other runes (such as Othala or Berkano), it becomes a vessel—holding space for grounding, transformation, and rebirth. It can also be used in simple blessings—traced over food, for example, as a way to honour nourishment and renewal.
☀️ Channeling and Grounding Energy
The rune has also been used to channel solar or cosmic energy into the body. Drawn above the crown or heart, it can direct energy downward—rooting it through the body into the land. This offers a sense of embodied presence and grounded expansion, in keeping with the rune’s quiet power.
The Journey of Ing: Remembering Forward
The Anglo-Saxon rune poem tells us that Ing “went eastward over the sea” and then returned. What happened in between is left unsaid. The poem offers no explanation—only a movement away, and a movement back.
This arc—the journey outward, the initiation, and the return—is recognised across many traditions as a sacred cycle. It offers a powerful metaphor for the kind of spiritual work many of us are undertaking now: reaching back into the deep past to recover ancestral wisdom, and bringing it forward as something living, grounded, and potent for the present.
The northern traditions we work with are not fixed relics. They are seeds. And Inguz is the rune that teaches us how to tend them—how to hold space for gestation, how to honour what is hidden, and how to return changed. In doing so, we are not simply reviving an old tradition; we are participating in its rebirth.
A Beltane Invitation
From now until the summer solstice, the gateway runes—Laguz, Inguz, Othala, and Dagaz—are especially active. This is a potent time to listen to the land, honour the ancestors, and tend what is emerging within you. If you feel called, you might:
Craft an Inguz rune and charge it under the moon
Walk your local landscape with Inguz held in your mind’s eye or formed in your hands
Offer spun thread, milk, or honey to the spirits of place
Reflect on what you are holding in gestation—and what is ready to be reborn
As always, let your practice be guided by relationship, curiosity, and care. Inguz reminds us that the quietest transformations are often the most enduring—and that the path forward is already rooted in the past.
Did our circle sound fun to you? (It really was). Here are some more opportunities to join my community events.
