Today's date: laugardagr 1. skerpla eða 25. may 2013 CE

Tag archives for havamal

Ek em heiðinn

After a 20-year journey, I declare myself today a Heathen. It’s time. The tide of religious superiority must change, and those beliefs left trampled and broken by the Christian onslaught must rise from the ashes and reclaim what is theirs. I’ve sworn my oath. Stained the runes. This is a short piece about why.

The forced subjugation of the Northern European Heathen societies — and all pagan societies around the world — by the Christian church has done near irreparable harm to the earth and humanity. In Europe alone, centuries of artistic, societal, and cultural discoveries were destroyed along with the people who made them.

Jaweh — proclaimed a god of “love” by his adherents — has inspired more mass destruction, murder, rape, and pillaging than any other god ever worshiped. He is a god of subjugation, torture, and sorrow. Though claimed to be omniscient and omnipotent, he allows murder in his name. He allows corruption at the highest levels of his church. Misogyny, pedophilia, pestilence and disease. Either he’s not there or doesn’t care.

He is a dictator and his rules are anathema to humanity. His adherents must satisfy themselves with the life they’re given — no matter how humiliating — and wait for death to be redeemed. They are promised heaven; to be with everyone they once loved. His real plan as dictated by scripture is for them to eternally labor in the fields in sight of his palace, but never allowed to enter. All of this in the name of “love”.

The Heathen gods in contrast serve as moral and ethical examples of human behavior.  They ask nothing more of their followers than what is common human courtesy: friendship for those who earn it; hospitality for the weary; defense of the helpless; honor, respect, love for the family; to celebrate when appropriate and mourn when necessary. Negotiation or trade before war. They ask us to live well.

They inspire through their own actions, not with threats or promises of an invisible future. Their own quests for wisdom and lore are guidelines for human existence. They show us to look for life in the face of death. To continually seek knowledge and to share what we find. They teach the perseverance of courage in the face of fear. Their occasional punishments are just and fitting for the transgression.

In the end, what the Heathen gods ask of us is nothing more than to be human. To accept what that means and to discover the rest for ourselves.

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Runic template

In my rune research the other day, I followed a hypothesis that “eight” and “ætt” are cut from the same cloth. That there is more than phonetics connecting the two. It turns out that I wasn’t far off. Átta is the Old Norse word for the cardinal number eight, descended from átt which relates to directions (north, north-west, west, south-west, south, south-east, east, north-east). Also according to Cleasby-Vigfusson, certain writers would write átt and ætt indiscriminately which tells me that at some point they held the same meanings. In other words, during the development of the Old Norse language, the word that references the cardinal directions could have been the same as the word for family (though a comment in CV calls this “fanciful”, it is the only thing that explains the shared usage).For me, this was the trigger for further exploration.

We already know that the heavens are divided into eight segments (cardinal directions, as well as mythologically) for Norse Heathens. Add to that this idea of “family”, and we end up with an interpretation of ætt as a possible social compass (which I’ve seen mentioned in a few different places over the last month or so). A guidance given to us by our connection to our kin. This idea struck me as very powerful, and I started to re-examine the Elder Futhark with it in mind. Three rows of eight (átta). Each row referred to as an ætt.

When I started to replay the meanings of the runes with this idea in mind, I noticed a kind of story arc  from rune to rune. This idea had occurred to me before, too, but I figured I would stick with it this time and see what happend. Especially since it was a story arc that I was also noticing in my readings of Njal’s Saga and Egil’s Saga and that I had seen inklings of in the Havamal. In short, the order of the runes through the Elder Futhark can be seen as a template for living, as a model to follow in order to get the most out of Heathen life.

For example, the meaning of FEHU is clear as being about wealth, but wealth in a more transient mode — ie, pocket money — with a warning that it can spoil relationships (Gunnar returning from his adventures dressed in fine furs, Sigurd and his “river fire”: neither of which led to great happiness). Whereas the meaning of OTHALA is also wealth, but wealth that is able to be bequeathed to next of kin (what Flosi and Kari end up with at the end of Njal’s Saga). Wealth that is in the form of a stable home, family, inheritance. Even just looking at those two runes, we can start to see the beginnings of a story — from pocket money to transferable wealth — but can’t make much more out of it other than the idea that money now can become an inheritance later.

Looking at the Futhark in this light also helps with some of the more confusing interpretations. KENAZ is a great example of this. It’s a real puzzler. Across the three rune poems, it is represented as meaning three different things: a scab from a skinned knee or a battle scar, the weight of misfortune, or the lamp-lit safety of a cozy cottage. Looking at the rune by itself poses a challenge for interpretation — though it is possible, and most runesters ignore the Icelandic and Norwegian poems altogether. However, when looking at it from the point of view of ætt-as-story-arc, we can begin to see that KENAZ is the wound you live from and tell stories about. Especially coupled with RAIDHO to its left and GEBO to the right. H0w many sagas are there, heroic tales are there, that tell of a hero who goes on a journey (RAIDHO) only to return home with scars and stories (KENAZ) and gifts (GEBO) for his friends? And this continues through every row: each rune has a meaning that sets it as a particular place in a person’s life.

FEHU and OTHALA, KENAZ can all be viewed with this overarching idea, and so can the other 23 runes. Using this interpretation, each rune represents a moment or concept within the progression of one’s life. Either it is a moment that must happen in order to move forward, or it’s a moment that — if it does happen — has to be handled in a certain way or with a certain process.

The first row represents the arc of youth: get some money together (FEHU), prove yourself in tests (URUZ) and against strong opponents (THURISAZ). Journey off into the world and return with stories and gifts to the joy of your clan (WUNJO). The second row is the introspective process of middle age. It’s about internal needs (NAUTHIZ) and their relationship with the forces of nature (ISA) and how we control our interactions with them (PERTHRO). The third row is old age, then. Great sacrifice starts it off (TIWAZ) and there are images of rebirth (BERKANO) and renewal (reconciliation? retirement?), connections with other people (MANNAZ) in a more profound way than before, and then the end. OTHALA and our ability to bequeath some legacy to the next generation’s youth. Obviously there are runes I’m not mentioning, but you get the idea.

Once we have a template, we can do all kinds of things with it. We can use it as a guide for our children, we can use it as a foundation on which to build a society. We can even use it as a map to find ourselves if we’re feeling lost or as a guide to what might be coming up next. I’m using it as a way of trying to find more accurate interpretations of each rune’s meaning. It makes sense that a society priding itself on wordplay, wisdom, and storytelling would have developed a system like this. Given that, I feel comfortable continuing in this vein in the hopes of putting more of the pieces together.

I’ve got a lot more work to do with this line of work, but I figured I would share what I’ve got so far in the hopes we can all help add to the collective thought and work towards recreating so much of what has been lost over the years.

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Rune Explorations: Fehu

FEHU (FAY-hoo) is the first rune of the three rows or Aetts of the Elder Futhark. The word FEHU comes from the Proto-Germanic and is the origin of our modern word “fee”.

The literal and pictographic representation of FEHU is the domesticated cattle. Cattle were often used to pay debts, settle disputes, and establish other types of trade. The use of cattle in this way is documented in Tactitus’ “Germania” (Germania 12.80) as a way of paying societal or criminal fines.  The rune still brings to mind that kind of association we have with “fee”: the stuff we use to pay our debts and obligations. Though sought after and valued as a means to an end, this is not the kind of wealth you want to focus on for your entire life.

FEHU represents money and the problems caused by valuing it above all else. “Money is kinsmen’s quarrel,” the rune poem says. “Path of grave-magic,” it continues, then “fire of the sea” or “flood-tide’s token”. Retrieving the wealth FEHU describes can require a dangerous and strife-filled path if we’re not careful. The Anglo-Saxon poem says it’s better to give it out if you have it. The Havamal and many of the sagas support this opinion.

The Havamal says (trans. Carolyne Larrington):

Even a man who knows nothing
knows that many are fooled by money;
one man is rich, another is not rich,
he should not be blamed for that.

Fully stocked folds I saw for Fituing’s sons,
now they carry beggar’s staffs;
wealth is like the twinkling of an eye,
it is the most unreliable of friends.

I believe that FEHU should not be used to represent some kind of originating force or essence. It’s connection with monetary wealth and the dangers of same are so obvious that the esoteric leap to originating force seems to me a stretch. To call it also an originating force of the universe (as Edred Thorsson does), we are in essence saying that the origins of our universe are connected to money. Disposable cash. If FEHU is a beginning or originating force, it may be as the means to undertake a journey, but not as the journey itself, and certainly not as some primal force.

It is significant that FEHU is the first rune and OTHALA — the rune representing homestead, hearth, permanent home — is the last. FEHU is the beginning of the journey. The hacksilver in your pocket or on your wrist that gets you from one place to another. It’s your cab fare, bill money, the stuff you need on hand in order to make ends meet. It’s never the end goal, however. It’s just your first step. A head of cattle aren’t worth much if you’ve got no farm on which to feed them, an old Norse philosopher might say.

So with FEHU  must come the understanding that a quest for money for its own sake is foolish and possibly dangerous (“grave-magic” and the story of Fafnir’s gold come to mind). Goals in life should be broader, farther-reaching, and have more personal and societal impact than simply wanting to accumulate disposable wealth. Money is fleeting, the Havamal tells us. It’s best not to rely on it more than necessary. Perhaps FEHU is a fitting rune for us to meditate on even — or perhaps especially — in the 21st century. FEHU is the money itself, the advice on how to use it best, and a warning against greed.

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