Category Archives: Paganism

The Hamr: Reflections inspired by chapter three of “Spinning Wyrd” by Ryan Smith

Happy Friday, dear readers. I’m ready to get back to my normal blogging, which means it’s time for some reflections on chapter three of Spinning Wyrd by Ryan Smith. In this chapter, Smith discusses the four-part self, a common understanding of the human being among many Heathens. Smith explores each of the four parts of the Heathen self at a level of detail and to a degree of expansiveness that I don’t recall seeing elsewhere.

This became immediately noticeable when Smith began talking about the hamr,1 which is that part of the self that makes up our physical form. But Smith immediately suggests that the hamr includes more than our flesh, bones, and organs:

Hamr, according to their2 research, could potentially include one’s clothing, personal presentation, demeanor, effects, and even modifications to the body.

From there, Smith reinforces the idea that the physical form of the hamr is malleable, pointing out the stories and traditions of shapeshifting. He goes on to list numerous stories about the various Aesir changing themselves, including Loki’s transformation into a mare, Freyja’s coat granting the wearer the ability to transform into a falcon, and even Odin’s sacrifice of an eye in exchange for a drink from Mimir’s well.

As an inclusive Heathen, Smith goes so far as to suggest this malleability extends to the understanding — both modern and ancient — of gender. He cites the recent discovery of a female warrior’s skeleton buried in the BIrka warrior tomb who may have been non-binary or a trans man by today’s standards. This opens the door to the possibility of a Heathen who is trans seeing their own transition as a spiritual practice, which I would think many might find incredibly affirming.

Of course, even for we cis people, I think the idea of sanctifying the notion of making our physical form more comfortable for us to live in. In many ways, I see this as way of upholding the Heathen idea of independence and autonomy.3

Post HIstory: I wrote the first draft of this post on September 5, 2024. I proofread, revised, and finalized it on September 6, 2024.

Footnotes

  1. Today’s post will focus almost entirely on hamr, one of the four parts to the self. I’m not sure if I’ll do separate posts on all four parts, but I felt at least hamr and fylgja deserved special attention. ↩︎
  2. It seems to note that it’s important that Ryan is referring to various scholars and specifically cites publications by Lyonel D. Perabo and Neil Price. ↩︎
  3. Of course, it’s always important to remember the equally Heathen values of hospitality, mutuality, and interdependence. Too much of even the most noble virtues can become a harmful thing. But in today’s society, I often feel that independence and autonomy tends to suffer more than the sense that we are responsible to others as well. Of course,t his also depends on a number of factors, including power imbalances and numerous axes of oppression and privilege. ↩︎

Mourning the loss of context and nuance

A while back, I had a friend who heard someone mention “sour grapes” and they were confused. This friend had never heard (or had forgotten) Aesop’s famous fable about the fox and the grapes. Without the knowledge of that story as the context for the phrase, they were puzzled by what the other person meant by “sour grapes.” Fortunately, it was easy for me to relate the story of the fox and the grapes to my friend and give them that context. Fortunately, I was there to do so.

Recently, another incident happened that has me pondering phrases people have no context for and finding something somewhat concerning going on in some witchcraft and Pagan communities. it seems that a number of us are divorcing certain statements from any context. The most recent incident that got me thinking about it was a discussion centered on the aphorism “if you can’t hex, you can’t heal.” To be honest, the interpretation that the individual who started the conversation suggested a newcomer to witchcraft might take me floored me. I offered a summary of how I interpret the phrase and the context in which I occasionally invoke that aphorism.

As I wrote my response, I considered how the conversation I was having played a huge role in determining whether I brought up the statement. So I decided to add that fact to the conversation:

Granted, “if you can’t hex, you can’t heal” isn’t exactly a phrase I’d be tossing out to newbies. Or using outside of the context of a conversation about how our magic/actions have far-reaching consequences (including unintended consequences) and we need to take responsibility for that.

The other person noted that they see the phrase phrase thrown around frequently, and I can certainly understand why that would bother them. I can also see how someone who was new to witchcraft and encountered that statement without any further context might interpret it — as my conversation partner suggested — as an indication that you actually have to learn how to cast a hex before you can do healing magic.1

I suspect there are a lot of phrases and aphorisms that tend to get thrown around in witchcraft and Pagan circles without important context,2 and I think that’s unfortunate. Especially when those who have no way of discovering that context on their own encounter those random statements. I also think that this tends to rob those aphorisms of further discussion and the exploration of the nuance to properly understand such statement.

I also worry that rather than being illustrative statements that encourage the start of a conversation, they’ve become little more than thought-terminating cliches. Having read Cultish by Amanda Montell, I will simply note that I’m deeply concerned about the dangers that lie in that direction.

So what is the solution? I don’t think we should banish these aphorisms and other statements from the discourse. However, I think it’s important to re-evaluate how and when we use them. That way we can better assure that when people new to them encounter them, they also have ready access to the context and nuanced conversations that they arise from and rely on for proper understanding.

Post History: I wrote, proofread, and revised this post on August 25, 2024.

Footnotes

  1. That is an idea that just boggles my mind. I think that any tool that can be used for good can also be used for ill and acknowledging that is important. But I certainly don’t think you need to learn how to stab someone effectively with your kitchen knife before you learn how to use it to chop vegetables, if you’ll forgive the analogy for the sake of ludicrosity. ↩︎
  2. I would argue that both the Wiccan rede and the threefold law are two more obvious and prominent examples. ↩︎

That time I (allegedly) met a Norn: A post inspired by chapter two of “Spinning Wyrd” by Ryan Smith.

During the second half of chapter two of Spinning Wyrd, Ryan Smith turned his attention to discussing the Norns and offering his understanding of them and what little is written about them. Overall, I think Smith offers an excellent analysis. However, there is one statement that is making a bit of personal conflict for me:

Nothing comparable to the rampant evidence of other animistic or votive practices dedicated to other Powers is present, strongly suggesting the lesser Norns were just as unapproachable as the Three.

Earlier in the chapter, he suggested that the “main” three Norns — Urd, Verdandi, and Skuld — are also unapproachable. Largely, I think it’s true. I certainly do not think that one can “renegotiate” the impact wyrd has on one’s life for them. And yet, I believe I have encountered and interacted with a Norn.

This happened back sometime in 2008 (give or take a year). My friend Becky had come over to hang out and she asked me to do a reading for her So i grabbed one of my rune sets and started reading for her and someone came along and “sat with me.”1 When I asked this individual who she was, her simple answer was “Norn.” I felt her presence during the entire reading.

Now bear in mind that this is a subjective unconfirmed personal experience that I had. So it and any unconfirmed personal gnosis I might derive from it should be taken with a grain of salt. However, based on my experience, I have developed a personal working hypothesis about the experience and what it means. So for the rest of this post, I will assume that some being joined me for this reading and that they correctly identified themselves as a Norn.

The Norn did not have much to say. However, it filled me with a sense that this was an important reading for my friend. First and foremost, I think the Norn’s presence was intended to make it clear that this reading was tapping into and exploring important ways in which wyrd was currently affecting and shaping Becky’s life, suggesting choices made as a result of this reading could have important impacts as well.2

I also get the sense that perhaps the Norn’s presence enabled me to better read the patterns of wyrd during this reading. After all, i will note that I consider this one of the most powerful and clear readings I have ever given. I get the impression Becky agreed with my assessment as well.

So while I mostly agree with Ryan Smiths assertion, I cannot in good conscience agree with it unequivocally. I do think it’s possible to interact with a Norn in certain cases, particularly when matters of great importance to our personal lives and the greater web of wyrd are involved. Though I’ll also note that I did not seek out this contact with a Norn and I have never tried to repeat the experience. I suppose I have a sense that when it comes to Norns, “don’t call us, we’ll call you” might be wise counsel.

Post History: I wrote the first draft of this post on August 21, 2024. I proofread, revised, and finalized it on August 22, 2024.

Footnotes

  1. Part of my own practice involves possession, typically by a deity. When i say that someone “sat with me” in this context, I mean that the deity or other being decided to share my body with me, but did not necessarily seek to take control. My personal experience is that some deities/spirits will do this on occasion just to observe a situation and/or provide commentary. ↩︎
  2. I think of it as a parallel to some tarot readers and teacher who suggest that the presence of three or more Major Arcana cards in a tarot reading indicates that the reading is touching on matters of great spiritual importance and impact. ↩︎

I think it’s important to interrogate the worthiness of our deities

I’ve been reading an advance reader copy of Pagan Roots by Yvonne Aburrow.1 One of the things Yvonne covers in the book is a list of terms and concepts that they believe (and I concur with them) that we Pagans should reclaim from how they’re used in Christianity. One of the words they talk about is “worship,” which Yvonne also covered in their “Reclaiming Pagan Words” series on YouTube:

To briefly summarize, Yvonne points out that “worship” originally meant something akin to “the state of being worthy.” It was later when it became about an act in relation to deities. Yvonne notes that this understanding of the word came after many of the pagan religions of Europe had already been supplanted. However, they suggest that we might see the act of worship as “giving honor to that which is most worthy.” It think that’s a pretty good definition,2 but I think that begs the question:

Are our deities3 worthy? What makes them worthy?

Back in 2022, I posted a video to TikTok4 in which I asked that first question point blank. To be honest, I can think of deities that — assuming they’re anything like how certain followers of those deities describe them — I do not think are worthy of my honor or worship. Instead, I think they are worthy of my contempt at best and my fierce opposition at worst. After all, I don’t even think my own deities are entirely above criticism, as I think I made fairly clear last week. I think that giving ourselves the freedom to interrogate whether our deities are actually worthy of even our time — let alone our praise and honor — is a powerful tool for making sure we don’t fall into the trap of authoritarian religion.

But even if we have a sense that yes, our deities are worthy of our honor, I think it’s beneficial to explore our reasons for coming to that conclusion. After all, I think doing so provides great insights into ourselves, our values, and what we hope to get out of our relationship(s) with our deities. After all, I should hope that we’re honoring our deities and establishing relationships with hem for more (and better) reasons than the fact that we’re expected to and/or we’re trying to avoid getting punished for not doing so.

So tell me, dear reader. Who do you honor? Why do you find them worthy of your honor?

Post History: I wrote, proofread, and finalized this post on August 18, 2024.

Footnotes

  1. It was was a great honor to be invited to be an advance reader for this book and I want to once more thank Yvonne for the opportunity. I look forward to promoting it and talking about it at great length when it’s released. ↩︎
  2. I might quibble a bit at the “most worthy part,” but I think that would be a lively discussion during pub theology rather than a more serious battle or a potential schism. ↩︎
  3. I’ll note that I’m writing this blog post from my perspective as a polytheist. However, I think the principle is applicable to any other understanding of the Divine and/or the numinous. ↩︎
  4. Apparently, WordPress seems to have issues saving blog posts that have TIkToks embedded in them. That’s annoying. I guess you’ll have to click through to see the video instead. ↩︎

Pondering what Ryan Smith said about the titular subject of his book “Spinning Wyrd”

Wyrd is an important subject to me. This is reflected by how often I keep coming back to it onn this blog. I’ve written posts about how the concept relates to both my ethics and my magic. I’ve even written a guided meditation/visualization for connecting with the web of wyrd. It’s so important to me that a major thing that made me take notice of Spinning Wyrd by Ryan Smith at first is the fact that it has “wyrd” in the title.1 So naturally, it only makes sense I’d have a few thoughts after reading the chapter of his book that is dedicated to discussing this important topic.

I like that Smith first demystifies wyrd by suggesting that it is just a force of the universe similar to the force of gravity. He explains the nature of wyrd in comparison to some models of fate like this:

However, Nordic wyrd is best understood as a metaphysical force comparable to gravity or magnetism that operates in consistent patterns that are shaped by the two essential forces of ørlog and hamingja.

Smith goes on to explain that these two forces represent the circumstances and implications of past actions and our personal and communal power2 to create change. I think this is an important interaction to understand because it helps us to keep in mind two equally important truths:

  1. We are not the victims of fate and have a say in our destinies through each action we take.
  2. Our influence is not limitless and there are other factors at play that we must learn to cooperate with and/or work around.

To me, becoming a proficient and effective witch is largely a matter of understanding these two truths and the interplay between them. We learn to understand the limitations placed upon us by our circumstances and the consequences of past actions,3 then understand how we can act anew and assert our will and power to shape the future within the confines of those limitations.4

This is an idea that not all Heathens seem to share. Some Heathens tend to be more fatalistic about wyrd and tend to view it as being more set in stone. This is due to certain passages in the lore. Fortunately, Smith covers those and beautifully explains why he reads those passages less fatalistically5 in the second section of this chapter, where he discusses the Norns. I have decided to do a separate blog post on that topic, which I hope to publish on Agust 23.

Post History: I wrote the initial draft of this post on August 11, 2024. I proofread, revised, and finalized it on August 13, 2024.

Footnotes

  1. Beyond that, “spinning wyrd” poetically describes how I understand magic, which I see as the act of altering the very web of wyrd and the reality that is created through it. Smith doesn’t use the word “witchcraft,” but I get the impression that he perceives his own mystical/magical practices in a similarly way, regardless of what labels he might use for those practices. ↩︎
  2. Smith introduced me to the idea that individuals could pool their hamingja (which I’d summarize as being about personal power) to work toward a common goal, thereby reshaping wyrd communally. While I had gotten close to this idea, I had never arrived at it quite so eloquently or explicitly and I appreciate Smith’s help in getting me across that threshold to full revelation. ↩︎
  3. Both our own actions and those of other people. ↩︎
  4. We might even test those limits to determine if they actually lie where we think they do. ↩︎
  5. I’ll note, however, that even Smith and I might hold different views on how set in stone certain future events are. For example, Smith clearly sees Ragnarok as unavoidable. I’m not as convinced of that conclusion. At the very least, I think some of the details — for example, whether Fenrir would oppose the Aesir in that battle — could have been avoided if the Aesir had simply made different choices. But then, I acknowledge that ‘could be different” and “will be different” are two different things. Also, I think how we interpret Ragnarok — such as whether we look at it as a Norse version of Armageddon or a metaphor for all cycles of death and renewal — changes my answer as to how avoidable or malleable the outcome is. ↩︎

Let’s talk about that time the Aesir screwed the pooch: A less common interpretation of “The Binding of Fenrir.”

One of the things I love about mythology is that, in my opinion at least, the stories are meant to be explored and plumbed for possible meaning. I don’t think that a single story necessarily has just one meaning. I also don’t think we should limit the meanings we take from the stories to those intended by the author.1

In that spirit, I would like to share one of the ways that I interpret a well-known Norse Myth, “The Binding of Fenrir.”2 In this story, the deities of Asgard become concerned about the destructive nature of Loki’s wolf-son and decide to bind him. It takes multiple attempts to do so and in the end, Fenrir become suspicious of the Aesir’s intentions and becomes reluctant to let them try again. Tyr convinces Fenrir to do so by offering to place his hand in the wolf’s mouth and giving him permission to bite it off if they don’t release the wolf from the bonds. Many — myself included — have looked at this as a story about the relationship between justice and sacrifice, praising Tyr for his willingness to knowingly sacrifice a hand in order to prevent some great calamity.

In this post, however, I want to suggest a different interpretation, one which would suggest that the residents of Asgard were wrong for binding Fenrir at all. After all, prior to being bound by the deities, the wolf was quite friendly toward the Aesir. I would suggest that their choice to tie him up and leave him bound may have been the catalyst that turned Fenrir against the Aesir and leads directly to his choice to oppose them at Ragnarok.

Now, many people might criticize this interpretation, arguing that the lore makes it fairly clear that if the Aesir had not bound the wolf, he would have caused too much chaos and possibly even destroyed everything. I would counter that criticism with a number or responses, the first one being that the attempt was ultimately unsuccessful and therefore their unjust act merely delayed his acts of destruction at best and caused them at worst. In the case of the former, I think it’s fair to question whether the delay justifies the act of injustice.

I also think that the latter is an even greater point, especially when you consider how the concept of the self-fulfilling prophecy is a common theme throughout ancient literature, both in Norse/Germanic culture and elsewhere. Keeping that in mind, I’m tempted to read the entire tale as another case of a self-fulling prophecy where the deities hear a prophecy (or even just get a sense of foreboding) and immediately try to counter it, engaging in actions that merely bring the prophecy to fruition. Perhaps if they had found a way to live peacefully with Fenrir and help him find constructive ways to redirect his destructive potential, things would have turned out differently.

So what does this mean to myself as a modern reader? I take this as a warning to not be driven by fear and take the “easy way out” of difficult situations, especially when that “easy way” comes t the expense of others. I think it’s a perfectly human impulse to try to avoid or control a potentially problematic situation, but acknowledge that acting on that impulse may lead to less than desirable results. I find it as encouragement to consider other options that may be revealed by exploring my fears, understanding the needs behind them, and considering how those needs might be addressed in other ways.

I also look at this story and consider how it might be an allegory for children growing up in general. Adolescence can be rough and chaotic and living with an adolescent going through that process can be as well. Again, I see the way some people want to deal with the difficulties and “rebelliousness” of adolescents reflected in the Aesir’s decision to betray and bind Fenrir. So as I wonder if there was a way to help Fenrir redirect his “destructive” nature into something beneficial and harmonious, I think that we need to find ways to help adolescents deal wit the own chaos they find themselves going through — both internally and externally — and help them instead find ways to shape themselves into the incredible adults they can and should become.3

Note that this is not to say that I find no value in the more common interpretations and lessons taken from this story. But the beautiful thing about stories is that we can take more than one meaning from them. I think this particular meaning of Fenrir’s tale is worth exploring.

Post History: I wrote the first draft of this post on August 11, 2024. I proofread, revised, and finalized it on August 2, 2024.

Footnotes

  1. I do think it’s important to never represent our personal interpretations as the original author’s intended meaning, however. ↩︎
  2. The link is to the version of the myth published on the Norse Mythology for Smart People website. This version includes footnotes indicating the earlier sources (including both Eddas) it drew on to create this particular telling. I’d encourage those interested to search out a few other versions of the myth, as the details vary a bit and, in my opinion at least, in ways that are somewhat interests. ↩︎
  3. I also think this idea can be applied to other people — such as other adults– that we find “difficult” and that there’s a generic lesson of ‘find ways to work together before just treating other people as troublemakers that should be cast out.” ↩︎

Synchronicity vs. Looking for Signs: Thoughts while reading “Spinning Wyrd” by Ryan Smith

Happy Friday, dear readers! For today’s blog post, i want to share some reflections inspired by Ryan Smith’s discussion of synchronicity in chapter one of Spinning Wyrd. While discussing the topic, Smith offers this bit of cautionary advice:

When you accept synchronicity into your life, you should refrain as much as possible from actively imposing meaning where it might not be present. Not all moments of coincidence are necessarily instances of synchronicity. Sometimes a flock of ravens chattering on the power line is just a conspiracy of ravens and not a visit from the god of victory to remind you that your utility bill is overdue or that a blackout is imminent.

Personally, I think this is a much needed warning. I too have noticed some Pagans’ tendency (especially among witches) to look at every moment in their life and try to find some sort of sign or portent in it. This can be anything from seeing an animal on the way to work to wondering what it means when the flame on their spell candle dances. And while I get that this is likely at least partly motivated by an understandable and admirable desire to see the wondrous in everything,1 I think a lot of people take it too far. Sometimes, animals show up simply because they exist in the same world as us. And sometimes, a flame dancing is just a demonstration of chaos theory.2

Smith goes on to discuss some of the criteria he uses to discern whether a given event is truly a case of the powers trying to send a message or just stuff coincidentally happening. His biggest advice is to focus primarily on those events that happen in close relation or proximity to ritual or other mystical work. So for example, he might take a raven or two landing on front porch shortly after holding a blot to Odin as a sign more readily than if he saw those same ravens on a fence while walking through the neighborhood on the way to the park. This strikes me as good advice.

I would also suggest that the problem often comes when we actively look for these signs and portents. In my experience, a true sign from the powers feels substantively different than a circumstance to the point where I immediately take notice even though I wasn’t looking for such a sign. And to be honest, I trust the powers I work with to send another sign if I happen to miss the first one.3 So this allows me to relax a bit and not push myself to be on the constant outlook for such signs, making me less likely to “see” ones that are not actually there.

Of course,this requires a person to have a certain level of trust in their own intuition, including the trust that their intuition will ever kick in to begin with. But that’s a confidence and trust that an be built over time and in my opinion, is something well worth cultivating. Ultimately, I think that once most people experience a handful of signs from the powers, their confidence that they’ll spot them without going looking for them begins to grow and they’ll be able to relax.4

Post History: I wrote the draft of this post on August 3, 2024. I proofread, revised, and finalized it on August 9, 2024.

Footnotes

  1. Though I have also hypothesized that “what does the flame dancing mean” is often a case of someone — especially if they’re relatively new to witchcraft — looking for some sign that their spell is “working.” That in itself deserves its own exploration as building that kind of confidence in one’s magic is a real need. ↩︎
  2. As someone who’s a bit of a math nerd, I must admit that chaos theory is pretty wondrous in its own right. Sometimes, appreciating the way in which such “randomness” can appear beautiful is well worth meditating upon in its own right. ↩︎
  3. This is also why many mystics and witches suggest that paying attention to repeating “coincidences” is another great way to discern legitimate messages from the powers. I think there’s merit to that bit of counsel as well. ↩︎
  4. Of course, even experienced witches and mystics sometimes mistake a coincidence for a sign or even misread a sign’s meaning. This is to be expected, as developing and improving our discernment is a never-ending process. ↩︎

Pondering the “Invoking Fire and Ice” rite in “Spinning Wyrd,” by Ryan Smith

When I was exploring the differences between my witchcraft practice and Wicca back in May, I mentioned that i was still exploring how to start my rituals and create a sort of ritual and magical space. At the time, I shared the following thoughts:

Also, there an aspect of circle casting I’ve found some Wiccans express that I find appealing — the idea of creating magical space, a “place that is not a place in a time that is not a time.” Or another way to put it would be “creating a liminal space for ritual.” This to me is different from creating sacred space and has a value. Setting aside a space to work magic in a given moment makes sense to me.

This also feels right for working with Freyja, though I’m not sure she likes liminal spaces, so much as wild spaces. My perception of Freyja is that much of her worship and magic is about stepping beyond the domain of humans and the bounds of civilization. In many ways, I imagine it as making forays from Midgard out into the wild and primal places of Utgard. So I’ve thought about exploring a way to create ritual space that is a sort of “pocket of Utgard.” Or perhaps a sort of outpost in Utgard. I haven’t made much progress with the idea, but it’s definitely one I keep toying with.

While reading Spinning Wyrd by Ryan Smith, I ran across his “Invoking Fire and Ice” rite, which may be an excellent starting point for what I want to do. To be honest, I’m a bit embarrassed I didn’t think of it myself. After all, the rite involves invoking and bringing together fire and ice — the opposing forces that were pivotal in sparking the creation process in the Norse myths — “in a way that leads to them meeting, joining, and creating a new synthesis of possibility and space for new creation.”1 I’ve often waxed poetic of the creative tension of the fire of Muspelheim and the ice of Niflheim. And yet, it did not occur to me to magically invoke these forces and that creative tension in order to make a space for my own efforts at creation and making changes to wyrd.

I also think this idea meets my needs for creating a sort of “wild space.” After all, the civilized order of Midgard did not come from the meeting of the fire and ice of the two elemental realms. That had to be shaped from the primal forces that resulted from that first moment of creation. I feel that my invocation of fire and ice would create a similarly primal space of unordered forces that I (and those working with me) could according to my (our) needs.

Post History: I began writing this post on July 21, 2024. I proofread, revised, and finalized the post on July 25, 2024.

Footnotes

  1. I’m directly quoting from chapter one of the book here. ↩︎

I will call myself a “witch.” Even if I call myself other things as well.

Part of me is surprised that no one has ever asked me why I call myself a “witch” rather than something from Norse practice (like a spae-man or a seithman.1) Probably because I often ask myself that same question and project my own tendency to question my choices onto others. But the fact that someone — even if only myself — is asking, I thought i might be beneficial to explore the answer to the question in a blog post. So here I go.

I started calling myself a witch back in 1998 when I first started exploring non-initiatory Wicca. I dropped the label somewhat when I started exploring Druidry through Ár nDraíocht Féin and then Heatherny through The Troth. However, I eventually realized that neither of these organizations quite nourished my spirit or matched how I perceived my own religious or magical practice, so i decided to go back to calling myself a witch and adopted the term “Vanic witch” to signify just how central my relationship with Freyja was to my own practice of witchcraft.

At this time, I also got involved with an email list that focused on discussing initiatory witchcraft. I found the definition that one of the initiates offered for witchcraft resonated with me:

A witch is someone who serves the role of both priest who serves the gods and ecstatic practitioner who seeks direct experience of the mystical.

Rough paraphrase of a definition given by an elder of the Mohsian tradition.

That’s how I saw (and still see) my own practice so I decided “witch” was the right term for me after all.

Mind you, I do occasionally use other labels to describe myself. I do like “seithman” and “spae-man,”2 as these refer to particular aspects of my practice (or aspects I want to incorporate into it). But they don’t really seem to encompass the entirety of my practice.

To be honest, this is reinforced by the fact that I allow my practice to be syncretic as well. These syncretic practices don’t fit into many of the Norse-specific words. And to be honest, a lot of Heathens who are more strict reconstructionists seem to almost frown on those of us who, for example, still find Tarot to be a useful tool.3 For me, “witch” is a more generic term which makes space for all my practices. It is inclusive of all the tools in my magical practitioner’s toolbox. Both those that have a basis in Norse culture and those that may be syncretized with it.

Also, I think calling myself a “witch” means I’m using an easily recognizable term more people are familiar with. If I say I’m a seithman, a spae-man, or a vitki, most people are going to have no clue what I’m talking about. Heck, I typically have to explain why i call myself a wyrd-worker.4

But if I say I’m a witch, most people have a rough idea of what I’m talking about. And now that people are becoming more aware that there are other witchcraft traditions and practices beyond just Wicca, mistaken assumptions about me along those lines also seem to be less common.

Post History: I wrote the original draft of this post on July 21, 2024. I proofread, revised, and finalized it on July 22, 2024.

Footnotes

  1. Of course, those who know me closely or have followed me long enough might already know that I have “seithman” as one of my email account names. I won’t post the full email address here, as I don’t want to encourage the spammers who already like to hit me up through my contact list. ↩︎
  2. I personally find “spae-master” entirely too prideful to consider using, however. ↩︎
  3. I will note, however, that I am not a fan of trying to blend such syncretic practices to the point where I try to make some universal, coherent system out of all of it. I love both the runes and the Tarot and find them useful, but i see no reason to throw them into a blender and make a single symbol system out of them. In fact, I tend to think it disrespects both practices. ↩︎
  4. Here’s a bit of interesting trivia for you: I typically only refer to myself as a wyrd-worker on my blog and social media. In fact, I started doing it when I created my YouTube channel. I was trying to come up with a name for the channel, and considered “A Witch’s Wisdom.” However, I realized that there were so many witch influences out there and wanted something a bit more unique. So I came up with “A Wyrd-Worker’s Wisdom” instead. And while the term absolutely reflects my understanding of my witchcraft practice and its nature, I will be forever amused by the reality that I adopted the label for the purposes of branding. ↩︎

Exploring a new book for Friday blog posts: “Spinning Wyrd” by Ryan Smith

Happy Friday readers! Isn’t it amazing how the Powers sometimes respond to us in interesting ways? Back on July 15, I commented that I really wanted to find a new book to blog my way through on Fridays. And almost immediately, I found what I believe to be that book. This post and the next few Friday posts will be about Spinning Wyrd by Ryan Smith.

I ran across Smith’s book a couple weeks ago when my Kindle app tossed it out as a book I might be interested in “based on my past reading.” I was mildly interested in the book right away because of the subtitle, “A Journey through the Nordic Mysteries.” So I took note of it and thought little more about it.

However, when I finished both books I had been reading (Cultish by Amanda Montell and a novel from the Crowns of Nyaxia series by Carissa Broadbent), I started looking for a new nonfiction book. As it’s been a while since Ive read a book about Asatru or any form of Heathenry/Norse Paganism,1 I started doing a bit of research. I wanted to find a book that was neither just presenting (non-initiatory) Wicca with Norse names tossed in nor written by someone with folkish or other bigoted views.2 Someone on the Norse Paganism subreddit mentioned, another of Smith’s books, The Way of Fire and Ice, as a good book and one that is radically inclusive. So I bought a copy of both books.

I began reading Spinning Wyrd and immediately started falling in love. In it, Smith describes and offers advice on a radical and radically inclusve type of Heathenry that embraces mysticism, which is right up my alley. One of the things I struggle with much of Heatherny, especially Asatru, is that it’s very academic and strikes me as exoteric. While I appreciate delving into the myths and lore of ancient Norse and other Germanic cultures, I’m not interested in creating a perfect replica of those culture’s beliefs or painstakingly recreate rites that match what those ancient worshipers of the Aesir and Vanir did.

Smith seems to share a similar sentiment. In the introduction to Spinning Wyrd, he lays out the following principle for his brand of Heathenry:3

At the core of Radical Heathenry are five points that set it apart from other forms of Heathen practice and define every aspect of this form of spirituality. These are living tradition, inspired adaptation, modern relevance, inclusive practice, and active involvement.

I also fell in love because his own description of wyrd in the introduction is extremely similar to how I view it:

Wyrd is the symphony of life cocreated by the actions of all beings, from the humblest living things to the mightiest of the godly and animistic Powers of Nordic practice.

I’m excited to read and blog about this book because for the first time, I feel like I may have found someone who sees honoring and working with the Aesir and Vanir very much as I do.4 I look forward to learning whatever i can from expanding my appreciation of the mystical side of Heathen practice and possibly further root my current mystical practices in the ways of Heathenry. I’m not quite ready to full on swear my commitment to the Way of Fire and Ice (the tradition founded by Smith), but I won’t deny that it’s certainly a possibility in the future.

I’m not sure I’ll blog through this book chapter-by-chapter like I did with Changing Paths. I figure I’ll just write a post on any aspect of the book that I feel I want to comment on and explore. It’s possible that might result in a post per chapter. Then again, it might result in me making multiple posts for some chapters.

I’ll also note that I feel like I’m going against some sort of rule here by blogging about Spinning Wyrd rather than first reading and blogging about The Way of Fire and ice, as Spinning Wyrd was written as a follow-up book for The Way of Fire and Ice. But the second book’s focus on wyrd really calls to me, so I want to jump right to it. I definitely plan to read both books, though. And I might even blog about the first one later on. Besides, are any of my readers really surprised that I might flout the rules a bit?

Post History:5 I started writing this post on July 20, 2024. I proofread, revised, and finalized it on July 21, 2024.

Footnotes

  1. I appreciate that Smith seems to use these terms relatively interchangeably. I understand why some Asatruar prefer to distance themselves from the term “Paganism.” However, the term has its uses and I’m not sure I want to draw such hard boundaries between myself and other Pagans. Also, I personally haven’t felt comfortabe identifying with Asatru or even Heathenry because I often feel like a lot of Asatuar would not see my own practice as “reconstructionist” or “culturally pure” enough. Fortunately, I think Smith’s book(s) might help me feel differently on that count. ↩︎
  2. To be honest, searching for a book that meets all of these requirements often feels like hunting for unicorns. ↩︎
  3. Smith refers to his brand of Heathenry as both Radical Heathenry and Fire and Ice Heathenry. He and others maintain an organization for people who are interested in exploring and taking part in this tradition. ↩︎
  4. In fairness, I do know of other Asatruar/Heathens who have mystical practices. For example, I’m familiar with Diana Paxson’s work to reconstruct a modern seidh practice and I loved Jenny Blain’s exploration of the same practice in her book. But everything I’ve read by both of them is more academic than practical or instructional. Granted, Paxson does have a couple of practical books on mysticism (Trance-portation and The Essential Guide to Possession, Depossession, and Divine Relationships) they are written outside of any specific cultural context in order to make them helpful to a wider audience. I appreciate that Smith’s books explicitly place his mystical explorations in the Heathen context. ↩︎
  5. I’ve decided to experiment with including a brief history of my process for each blog post. I feel this offers me a lot of benefits, including enabling me to remember at a glance which posts are actually ready for publication. I hope my readers don’t find it too distracting. ↩︎