British Druid in Spain

Every morning I take the dogs on their first walk, during which I greet the Sun in the following way: Hail to the Sun, newly risen, who shed light and life on all my ancestors, who shines on me now, and who will shine on all my ancestors yet unborn, share with me this day, some of your light and might, that I may better fight in the fray and gain my goals. I then say aloud a poem from the Havamal: I know that I hung on a windy tree, nights all nine, wounded by spear, a sacrifice to Odin, myself to my self, on that tree from which no man knoweth, from what roots it rises, they dealt me no bread nor drinking horn, I looked down, screaming I seized the runes, and fell back again. That is my morning ritual every day.