My Tattoo (Redux)

It looks as though I’ll have to go over my tattoo one more time once it heals. There are some parts of it — the intersecting lines, particularly — that didn’t take. Hopefully it will be healed enough to do this weekend.

Since my tattoo is of a bind-rune, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how atheism and spirituality can be combined. In my view, the runes are keys to certain philosophical truths or states of mind without anything more than a metaphorical connection to “gods” or other supernatural beings. Naturally, there are Asatru-folk out there who will completely disagree with me. As an atheist, though, I have a pretty clear view of gods and extra-human beings: they don’t exist.

That said, however, the ideas that those gods represented to people who did believe in them are not to be taken lightly. Those ideas are what I take from the past and bring into my life. Examples that the gods — as characters — set for us in their stories are still valid. Qualities they represent as indicators of both how we should and should not behave still apply to my life. Even if I don’t believe there’s really a gang of blustering, angry Aesir, Vanir, and Jotuns galumphing around the worlds above Midgard.

Humanity on its own is a powerful force that should not be taken lightly. History is filled with non-mythological stories that show this to be true — in positive and negative lights. So how does this all lead to the runes?

To me, the runes were created in an effort to document, represent, and use the forces humans felt that they were able to harness. In the world-view of the people who crafted them gods and giants, elves and dwarfs were all alive and romping about the hidden planes, but after nearly 2000 years we should know better. There are no gods, just us humans. The giants we have to fear are nothing more than our own elongated shadows. The elves and dwarves no longer craft weapons, but we do. The world is different, but humanity’s capacity for power is not.

An atheist is one who does not believe that there are supernatural, extra-human powers in the universe. Hence, I’m an atheist. In the same way a philosopher puzzles over a question of existence, or a priest ponders the idea of original sin, or a Buddhist works towards enlightenment, I will work with runes towards a deeper understanding of myself, my family, and — ultimately — humans in general. In short, I meditate, craft with, and dedicate myself to the runes because I think there’s real truth within the ideas they represent. My tattoo represents this dedication. It does not represent a change in beliefs, or adherence to Asatru or any other reconstructionist/new age fallacy.

The power of the self, devotion to family and clan, the belief that one step is enough to start yourself towards a “destiny”: these are all ideas that transcend belief systems, organized religions, philosophies, and the like. These are all ideas that are represented by the runes. They also happen to be ideas represented within existentialist philosophy and probably quite a few world religions. In other words they are ideas that resonate — as I believe they should — with all humans.

My Tattoo

That little shape in amongst all of the kitchen scratch from my journal is the rune I etched into my left calf last night under a haze of wonderful home-brewed mead. The rune is one created from Nauthiz and Perthro. The meaning of it is fairly simple: the bearer is willing to accept that each decision s/he makes creates his/her future, but that the future can be changed by constraining and redirecting negative results of decisions. In short, the bearer is in complete control of his/her destiny as long as s/he understands what — precisely — that destiny will be.

It took me a long time to come up with something important enough to me that I would imprint it into my skin. To that end, doing this was not a last-minute decision for me. I have been planning on getting a tattoo for at least 10 years, and only now did I find something important enough to me to go through with it.

Here’s a thumbnail of what it looked like the morning after:

From Self-Tattoo