Everyone is special. So, really, no-one is special

Just now, I made a modest offering to Tyr. Hoping to strengthen my relationship with him, but also as a means to commemorate my new training regimen. Who better than the Lord of Oaths to keep in mind when intending to form a new, positive habit. Discipline, personal development and martial arts are all things that I consider to be within his field of influence.

Don't get me wrong, though. I'm not really the kind of heathen who makes offerings to every god, wight and ancestor all the time. Far from it. I appreciate for some people that is a means for them to feel like they are really "doing heathen" properly. But I feel that offerings made less often have more meaning. It wasn't a major offering on my part, just a dram of single malt scotch. Hardly gonna break the bank, that. I hope the gift is received as it was given.

I've made the decision to put more of my time and energy into my own health and fitness, as well as both studying and practicing my martial art. Knowing how easily I can be swayed to give up on such enterprises in the past, an inaugural offering to Tyr seemed appropriate. I'm not asking him for make me do it. I know discipline and willpower don't work like that. The offering is just there to remind me how important this is to me right now - lest my interest wanes again.

Heathenry: All form and no content?

The following article was inspired by an experience our hearth had a few weeks ago. We had arranged to meet with people we'd met online at a fairly local moot. While we hadn't met any other members of this group before, we were looking forward to the meet up, as at least one of the attendees, the organiser, had shown themselves to be what we considered a good heathen and the kind of person we'd like to hang out with (not an accolade we bestow lightly).

The gods had other ideas, though. The day of the moot turned out to be one of the first sunny days of the year, spring having sprung a week or two earlier. Due to the nice weather, every man and his dog turned up to the meeting place. This would not, necessarily, be a problem - were it not for the very limited parking available. We drove around for quite some time, but to no avail. More and more people descended upon the area, bringing their unnecessarily large automobiles with them.

So, we left a message stating that, sadly, we wouldn't be able to attend and headed home. When we got back, it turned out the moot organiser had suffered the same problem and had also been unable to attend. Shame, but we all resolved to meet again next time.

All, that was, except one guy. Let's call him 'Bill'. Apparently, Bill had turned up and had been waiting for us all to arrive. Bill felt he had been unfairly put out by our failure to arrive. Despite the heavy traffic (and limited parking) being more than evident and despite our messages of explanation and apology, Bill decided to get massively butthurt over this.

It would seem being left alone on a beautifully sunny day had really aggravated him. Being made to attend a really nice pub with a very nice menu and good range of ales was probably the last straw.

To some extent, I can understand being a little annoyed. What I can't understand is leaving a really immature message on the group's online noticeboard and complaining that the organiser had let him down. I also recall some ad hominem attacks, if I am not mistaken. Seriously, this guy was whining like crazy over one lousy cancelled moot.

Thing is, looking at his profile on social media, he seemed to have given himself a really butch viking-style name (think 'Ragnar Thunderpants, or similar) and seemed to buy into the whole heathen/viking macho ideal. Perhaps not quite full on Brosatru, but getting there.

How can this guy think of himself as a modern, tough, stoic viking and then get really upset about a long drive to a nice pub near a beautiful park that didn't quite go to plan? Does Bill consider that hardship? He should try crossing the Atlantic in a longship...

This really has me worried now that a much greater proportion of the heathen community than I had previously thought are precisely this kind of immature, 'dummies out of the pram' style whinger.

To me, one of the most important things that attracted me to heathenry in the first place was the fact that it actively discouraged this kind of attention-seeking, diva-like behaviour. I'm not saying I want a mindless, Rambo-esque Brosatru hearth or moot, but just no-one that needs suckling before we can get to the proper business of drinking and setting the world to rights.

Too much to ask?

Not just a warrior cult? No, but...

The nation that will insist upon drawing a broad line of demarcation between the fighting man and the thinking man is liable to find its fighting done by fools and its thinking by cowards.
~ William Francis ButlerWhen I first started upon my heathen path, I would respond aggressively to anyone who wrote off norse paganism as merely a warrior cult. Understandable, as there is so much more to the eddas, sagas and lays than that. It was these things in which I was more interested back then.

Now, however, having spent some time as a practicing heathen and having interacted with other heathens (mostly online, I will concede), I find my view changing in one very important respect.

The importance of the role of warrior, of battling one's enemies, of physical confrontation cannot and should not be ignored. The mythology is rife with references to battle and combat-related metaphors. The necessity of fighting to defend one's family or property was very real and pervasive back then.

This shaped our heathen forefathers, both physically and mentally. In a way that I feel many contemporary heathens don't appreciate. To call oneself a 'warrior' because you 'fight high insurance prices' in your daily work (or similar weak metaphor) betrays a complete lack of awareness of the huge effect that regular combat (or even intense training) can have upon a person's personality and values.

There is an argument for ignoring the warrior motif within heathen sources. After all, contemporary society doesn't require all of us to literally fight for our livelihoods. Some of us may become police or soldiers who will act on the front lines in a manner very similar to our viking ancestors, but most of us will spend our lives doing something much more pedestrian, likely in complete safety. Thankfully, very few of us will ever be required to fight at all, never mind literally fight for our lives.

However, the warrior mindset gained through training for and taking part in combat clearly informs a great portion of the beliefs and values expressed in the heathen sources, such as the eddas, sagas and heroic lays.

So, as part of my heathen path, I am taking time to investigate and, where possible, experience, what it is like to actually be a warrior. Even if that is simply some 'alive' training for my internal martial arts - my class, for example, also has a full contact sparring class on Tuesdays. Tentative exploration of this will inform my faith as well as any time spend poring over various texts.

Einherjar: Lone Fighters

I was reading somewhere else online (another heathen blog, perhaps) that the old norse name for the warriors in Valhalla, 'einherjar' literally means something along the lines of 'those who fight alone'.

The writer in question explained that viking warriors were trained in all aspects of combat and could be thought of as 'a one-man army'. Thus, they were well prepared for and perfectly able to fight alone, even outside of the shield wall, if necessary.

All of this I agreed with and admire, but it was at this point that the writer went on to use this to explain the importance, for them, of time alone.

I don't really feel that the importance of alone time (whoever enjoyable that might be) was the lesson to take from this. Rather, I think the more valuable attribute (especially in this modern age and in an overcrowded nation such as the UK) was the importance of self reliance.

Being able to operate, provide for oneself and even thrive - alone - is a very admirable trait. Especially in contemporary society, in which we are expect, and required, to rely on others for everything. Our food, our security, our entertainment, fixing our tools and even making decisions for the direction of our lives and the upbringing of our families - all are provided by third parties. This can leave us over-reliant and unable to fend for ourselves, if we are not careful.

So, perhaps, in a time where striving to be ferocious, ruthless warriors is frowned upon, being something of a Renaissance Man is the next best thing for the modern heathen?

More quotes

“The Norse ideal was a man of open, generous disposition, a man imbued with qualities of compassion and kindness, not ruthless but firm and fair, even-tempered but capable of passion, physically accomplished and strong in [a] fight, but not a bully.”
--Magnus Magnusson

“To do what lay before him openly and like a man, without fear of either foes, friends, nor fate… to be free and daring in all his deeds; to be gentle and generous to his friends and kinsmen, to be stern and grim to his foes, but even towards them to fulfill all bounden duties… to be no truce-breaker, nor tale-bearer, nor back-biter. To utter nothing against any man that he would not dare tell him to his face. To turn no man from his door who sought food or shelter, even though he were a foe.”
--George Dasent

Inspiration and self improvement

I've been meditating on the gods (specifically Tyr and his rune) with the aim of helping me improve my discipline.  I have wanted to do this to help me stick to a training regime that will help my baguazhang classes and generally improve my health and fitness.  In turn, I hope, that will help me be a better father as I grow older and increase my ability to protect my family.  All good stuff, I'm sure whatever readers (if any) that this blog might enjoy would agree on that.

And, despite my lack of convicition regarding the existence of those same gods (or, at least, what form they take), I am finding that it works.  I can rationalise this by accepting what I am doing as a form of self hypnosis - but what does it matter if I involve gods (imaginary or otherwise) in improving myself?  Especially if the improvements themselves are considerable - as I hope to find they will be in this case.

Neopaganism has room for atheists, agnostics, animists and all kinds of others who differ from the traditional theist/polytheist demographic.  If I later find that gods do actually exist, then I am sure they will forgive me being a touch skeptical in the beginning.  If not, do I really want to associate with any being, no matter how powerful or influencial in my life, if all they want is for me to believe unquestioningly?

Magic(k) - That tricky little beggar...

I have to start this post by admitting that I am not a believer in magic as most people (or, at least, most neopagans) see it.

Most dictionary definitions of magic tend to involve referencing 'the supernatural' and that itself is described as being something that operates outside of nature.  That is where my problem lies.  For me, if something exists, it exists within nature.  Mankind is a part of the natural world and claims from some pagans that somehow, by living in a city and creating machines man has all but severed his attachment to the rest of nature just don't make sense to me.

If that is the case, why is an apartment block considered 'not natural' and yet a termite mound is?  Why is a man using a machine unnatural and yet a chimp or even a bird using a stick perfectly okay by Mother Nature?

So, to get back to the topic of magic.  Rather than believing in mystical mumbo-jumbo and arcane knowledge, I tend to find my magic firmly enshrouded within the natural order.  Now I could get all twee and start singing about how caterpillars metamorphosing into butterflies is magical.  But, frankly, I doubt I could keep the bile down long enough to sing the first few bars.  Instead, I choose to see anyone who makes a significant change in the world around them through the application of their will as a magical event.

To provide a topical example, a person who loses an arm or a leg but, through self discipline and training (and the exertion of their will) goes on to win gold at the paralympics - that could be considered, by me, to be a form of magic.

That is but one of a myriad of examples I could give, but the point is that, in my opinion, magic doesn't have to be conjured from the ether.  It is all around us and pervades everything - it is just a change in attitude and outlook that allows it to be seen.

Now let this muggle get back to work...