Friday, October 5, 2018

From Nott Into Dagaz





Long ago, there was a troll that convinced the world of Men that to live vibrantly was to invite disaster. “Don’t sing too loud or love to loud, you might be gathered by the church priests and burned, “ it said. “Don’t dance too hard or shine too bright or you will be shunned. Don’t let your daughters be too wild or carefree. Don’t let your sons feel or cry. Don’t let passion be a part of the mead hall. Never trust the wandering bard for he is a trickster who draws men to their death.”

Its words spread like a murk ice stave over the hearts of man and people began to trust not the cloaked bard or the laughing Shaman. The folk began to look down on women who were a little too wild and happy. They shamed the men who had heart-filled hearts. They began to gossip and envision fearsome monsters everywhere, not realizing it was the shape of their own shadow they saw. They began to weave conspiracies and conspire to keep others down and they forgot what it felt like to dance naked in the woods, or bathe in the dawn's rays. They forgot how it felt to make love with mud between their thighs or how to howl like wolves and growl like bears in the night. They began to keep themselves small and when they saw the Wod in another, they either sought to smother or shame it away.

Yet in small pockets of the world, there were still hearths lit with the light of Wod. Their soup pots were full of hearty cheer and generosity. They did not weep at disaster, but gleefully grinned at the waves of circumstance that came and went. They laughed hard into the night and always bathed in the dawn. Their daughters knew what the scent of wood smoke meant and how it felt to sing to the moon. Their sons knew how a tune could turn a battlefield to victory. These places were the last homes of Wod.

Now in an age where everything is seen. The great spider has illuminated the minds of men towards one another….and the rise of Wod begins to fills the homes of Heathens once more. The Wandering Cloaked bard fills the ways with hope and joy and wild lust for life. He sings Greening songs of life and rugged individualism.

Yet, the trolls also rise, as well. Their paranoia and fear ride the same pathways to our minds. Those same trolls sing songs of fear and mistrust, of enmity and shame. They do not bathe in the dawn or laugh heartily in the night with friends. They convince man to conform to what is “safe”, they whisper on the Web about “disaster is coming”. They seek to divide instead of unite by convincing mankind that appearance determines character. Trolls have appearance and outwardly, they look beautiful. Yet, inwardly, they weaken and destroy the heart of Wod.

True Heathens have vastly different appearances, but you know their Wod by the way you feel when you are around them. The Wanderer teaches us to not only look with our outward eyes, but our inner eyes, as well. For how we feel around others can be a bigger indicator of who they are than what they look like. Wod teaches man to FEEL as well as SEE. For without cultivating our FEELINGS, we will never be able to notice the trolls that feed off the hearts of man.

So If you want to reveal the true nature of things to yourself. Merely sing Dagaz songs of the Day. Drink with Thorr in the evening. Cry with Bragi as he sings. Laugh with Frigga and delight in Freyja. Feel the moonlight and sunlight on your naked skin. Remember the smell of wood smoke and the sound of hearty laughter. Learn to dance again.

Then look out into your world with not just your eyes, but the Wod of your heart. And see what the light of the Gods reveal in your life.

(Artwork: Slavic God Dazhbog, winner of darkness and wealth giver)

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