Odin: Ecstasy, Runes, & Norse Magic - Diana L. Paxson 2017

Battle God

Egil Skallagrimsson is one of the most striking figures from the Icelandic saga era, a truly Odinic hero. We saw something of his rune lore in chapter 4, but he is best known as a skjald and warrior. The verses above are from a poem called “The Head-Ransom,” written while he was a prisoner of his enemy King Eric Blood-Axe to persuade the king to let him go free. Translated by novelist E. R. Eddison, it captures the gusto with which the Viking Age skjalds celebrated war and the kings who waged it.

As Victory father, Odin provided battle magic, protection, and advice. He is the patron of the bear-sarks and the wolf-coats who were used as shock troops in battle, and lord of the einherior, the heroes who wait for Ragnarök in Valhalla. Today, this aspect resonates with people in the military or other professions involving stress or danger and can be an inspiration to men in prison as well.

The Father of Armies

In Price's list of Odin's names, those relating to warfare comprise 25 percent of the whole. This total is hardly surprising, considering that the people who most often made war were also the people who paid the poets, who, in turn, must have spent a lot of time thinking up new and different ways to refer to the god to whom their patrons sacrificed for victory. The selection of names discussed below covers the variety of martial roles that Odin mastered.

As a leader of armies Odin is Herjafadhr (Army Father) along with six other names with the element her, a term originally referring to a troop of raiders rather than a formally organized army. Kershaw (2000, 17) defines him as having originally been the mythical leader and personification of the herr. He is also Ófnir (Inciter), Hvatmódh (Whet Courage), Sigfadhr (Victory Father), and eight other names that include Sig. Among combat names, we find Atrith (Attacking Rider), Geirdrottin (Lord of the Spear), and eight other names with “spear” as an element. The spear Gungnir is Odin's emblematic weapon. He is also Göllnir (Battle Screamer), Herteit (Glad in Battle), Hildolf (Battle Wolf), Hjalmberi (Helmet Bearer), Járngrím (Iron Mask), Svölnir (Shield Bearer), and Vidhurr (Killer). Names that indicate his role in battle magic include Haptagudh (Fetter God) and Hramm (Fetterer, Ripper), and possibly Gunnblindi (Battle Blind) and Herblindi (Army Blind).

Interestingly enough, despite all these titles, in the mythology the only fight in which we see Odin personally taking the field is the one in which he faces the Fenris Wolf at Ragnarök, the fight that he will lose. Thor fights giants in single combat, Snorri says warriors should call on Tyr, and in Skirnismál, Frey is called “general of the gods.” Yet it is Odin to whom kings sacrificed for victory.

For an image of the god in this role, look online for the Arthur Rackham picture of Wotan galloping off to punish Brünnhilde for disobeying him (from the illustrated libretto for Wagner's Die Walküre).

Battle Magic

The spells at the end of Hávamál describe the kinds of aid Odin can give. Some of them are protective. Spell number three blunts the blades of enemies so they will not cut. Number five stops arrows in flight. With the eleventh and thirteenth spells (Hávamál 156, 158), Odin protects his followers—

I know an eleventh, if I shall to battle

Lead old friends,

Under shields I sing, and they fare with might,

Whole (healthy) into battle,

Whole from the battle,

Whole wherever they walk.

But as we see from the names listed above, despite all the spear shaking, it is mind power that Odin uses to bestow victory. Odin whips up the spirits and courage of the side he favors, while he blinds the minds and binds the limbs of the foe. When Sun Tzu says in The Art of War that subduing the enemy without fighting is the supreme art of war, he is talking about the psychological element in warfare that can overcome physical advantage.

There are two parts to that equation. Standing fast while you face a line of other people who seek to kill you takes the conviction that your leader is worth following, that the people standing with you in the line are worth dying for and feel the same about you, and that you yourself are the “scariest M—F—in the valley.” It helps if you believe that the gods are on your side. In Ynglingasaga 2, Snorri describes Odin's ability as a morale builder:

Odin was a mighty warrior who had wandered far and won for himself many kingdoms; he was so victorious that he won every battle, and through that it came about that his men believed he must needs be winner in every fight. It was his wont when he sent his men to battle or on any other journey to lay his hands on their heads and give them his blessing; they then believed that all would go well with them. And so it was with his men: when they were hard beset on sea or land, they called on his name and always thought they got help from it; in him had they all their trust.

In the film version of Tolkien's Return of the King, at the beginning of the battle of the Pelenor Fields, King Theoden rides along the line of Rohirrim riders, tapping their spears with his sword and thereby transferring his luck to them in just this way.

As we can see from this account by John T. Mainer, Odin continues to help warriors today.

My first encounter with Odin was deeply moving, and embarrassing; the former because of the changes it made in me, the latter because I was ignorant for a long time about who had taken a hand. In 1988, I was two-thirds of the way through basic training in the Canadian Armed Forces. Those who were going to drop, had dropped, and we were culled from a company down to an over-strength platoon. Those who were left were going to go all the way, they were stripped down to the core of who they were, had been tested to their limits and there was no give in any of them. I knew them all as worthy, and I wanted to open to them, but I could not. The failing was my own, which actually made it harder to accept. I had training in Go-Ju Ryu karate and Tai-Chi so I was attempting to use eastern meditation techniques to deal with my growing anger issues and problems opening up, but without much success.

I was sitting on a large boulder out back of C Barracks, on the hill above the Regimental HQ, when I slipped from meditation into vision. You have to understand, I had no knowledge of the centre boss shields used by our ancestors, and when I thought of shields, my thought was either Roman tower shields, Greek or Celtic arm strapped heavy round shields, so what awaited in my vision didn't make much sense at the time. I saw a shield wall, the men and women in it were my platoon, and they were fighting hard against a foe that outnumbered them greatly. Their wall was strong, and they were splendid warriors, but they were getting cut down because at the centre of the line was an empty file; my place. I knew the place was mine, and without my shield and spear they were falling. I could not advance and take my place, nor could I bear to watch them get cut down because of me. In my shame I turned to find a man, white haired and wild bearded. He had a dark blue hat pulled low over his face, and a dark blue (not Navy blue, just darker than royal blue) battered cloak. One blue eye blazed with utter contempt and fury at me and I literally stepped back from the force of it.

He asked me why I tarried here when my comrades were dying, did I not want to go to them and take my place? I lost it, and screamed at him that I CAN'T. He asked again if I wanted to, and this time I just nodded. Then he said simply, “Then join them” and without a word of warning, or me ever being aware that he held one at all, suddenly he plunged a spear gripped in his right hand through my chest. The head was broad, flaring near the base and you could see the hammer marks on it. It drove through my chest, splitting my breastbone from just below the nipple line, and blasting out my back.

I came out of the vision like a shot, fists raised, heart hammering painfully in my chest, every single muscle in my body hard and tensed and my adrenaline in full fight/flight mode. From that day forth, the barrier that had always prevented me from connecting was gone, and I bonded to my basic training group and the others of the Regiment as I had bonded to no one before in my life save blood kin.

The changes in how I interacted with everyone after that point made it essentially a new life, and I still had no clue who had done this. I chanced to be without a book on my way to campus for school, when I stopped at a used bookstore to buy something to read. I saw a picture of the one eyed bastard who stabbed me, and the title of the book was Brisingamen. Written by Diana L. Paxson, ironically before she was heathen, the book told of Odin and the gods in modern context and all it took was the name before the penny dropped. It had been Odin who had found and fixed me.

Being a university student and soldier, I went to the library, found the Hávamál, and read for the first time a moral code that spoke to my soul. In the words of the wanderer, in the teachings of the Feeder of Ravens, I found the teachings I had been searching for that could bring all the warring parts of me, soldier, scholar, poet, into one cohesive whole.

Note that John had this experience a year after my own encounter with the god and more than twenty years before we actually met. Odin seems to have started recruiting in earnest about then.

Thanking “Battle Glad” is easy when you win, but there is a deeper level of commitment in which you continue to stand fast even when it becomes clear that Victory father is not going to give you the victory. A case in point is the Battle of Maldon, in which an Anglo-Saxon earl makes the mistake of letting the Viking raiders cross to solid ground so they can have a fair fight. He gets killed, leaving his followers to decide whether to abandon his body or keep faith with their lord and each other by defending it. The words of the old retainer Byrthwold ring out with the clash of steel (Griffiths 1993, 312—13).

Hige sceal pe heardra, heorte pe cenre

mod sceal the mare pe ure mægen lytlað

Mind shall be harder, heart be keener,

Courage shall be more as our might lessens.

This is a colder kind of courage, based not on the assurance of victory but on honor, on keeping troth with your fellows, your god, and your highest self, the kind of bravery that will be needed at Ragnarök.

The other part of Odin's magic turns this around. In Ynglingasaga 6, Snorri tells us, “He could make his foes blind or deaf or terrified and their weapons were as nothing more than sticks.” We know from the fourth spell in Hávamál that Odin can free himself (and his followers) from physical fetters. The names Haptagudh and Herblindi tell us that psychically, as well as physically, he can apply them to others. The variety of weird-looking gear warriors have added to their armor over the centuries suggests that psychological warfare is ancient. If hearts beat faster when Victory Father incites a battle, the blood grows cold when he takes that power away. It may be more glorious to fight a worthy foe, but it is easier to defeat an enemy who cannot fight back. There is no more dangerous enemy than the one that strikes from within.

Odin's other main role in warfare is to advise. This is seen most clearly in Saxo's story of the death of King Harold War-Tooth (Grammaticus 1905, Gesta Danorum 1, 8). Odin has previously taught Harold the secret of the Svinfylking (Swine array) battle formation, which is a wedge in which each successive row of men is doubled. It is known from many cultures and was a favorite formation of the German tribes who fought the Romans. When Odin, taking the role of Harold's charioteer at the Battle of Brávellir, tells him that his opponent, Hring, has drawn up his men in the wedge formation, Harold realizes that his enemy could only have learned it from Odin and that the god has therefore abandoned him.

Battling with the Bears, Wandering with Wolves

But Odin has yet another weapon. Snorri also tells us that “his own men went about without armor and were mad like hounds or wolves, and bit their shields and were strong as bears or bulls; they slew men, but neither fire nor steel would deal with them. This was called a berserk's-gang” (Ynglingasaga 6).

The figure of the berserker has fascinated fighters and scholars alike, inspiring a variety of speculations as to the condition's cause ranging from consumption of Amanita muscaria (fly agaric) or alcohol to various mental or physical conditions. Jesse Byock (1993) proposed that it might have in some cases been a symptom of Paget's disease, a condition involving uncontrolled skull growth. At the end of Egilssaga, we're told that a hundred and fifty years after his death, Egil's body was exhumed and his skull found to be abnormally thick and hard.

The berserk fit is a state of altered consciousness in which the fighter is consumed by a fighting madness in which not only can he accomplish feats that are beyond his usual strength but he is also impervious to pain. The Roman poet Lucan, writing about the wars in the Alps during the early second century BCE, refers to what he called the furor Teutonicus to describe the fighting style of the German Teutones. In Viking tradition, berserkers identified with bears—wearing an actual or magical bear sark (skin)—or were ulfhedinn, wearers of the wolf jacket.

Old Norse literature is rich in stories of shapeshifting and words derived from the hamR root, including hamfarir (shape journey), hamrammr (shape strong), hamask (to fall into a state of animal fury), hambleyna (leaper out of his skin), and hamslauss (out of his shape). In the sagas, shape changing generally is used for fighting, although it may also be used for information gathering. As we saw in chapter 3, Odin was said to have the power to take the form of a bird or beast while in trance and in that shape to journey in the inner and outer worlds (Ynglingasaga 7).

We find another such example in Hrolfkrakisaga, in which Bodhvar Biarki fights for his king in the form of a great red bear, while his body remains in his house, apparently asleep. When his friend comes to find out why he is not at the battle, he “wakes up,” and the bear disappears. This is also presumably what is going on when Dufthak and Storolf fight in the shapes of a bull and a bear (clearly their antipathy predates the struggles of the stock exchange) in the Landnamabók.

A description of a berserker can be found in chapter 7 of Saxo Grammaticus's (1905) history of the Danes.

When Hardbeen heard this, a demoniacal frenzy suddenly took him; he furiously bit and devoured the edges of his shield; he kept gulping down fiery coals; he snatched live embers in his mouth and let them pass down into his entrails; he rushed through the perils of crackling fires; and at last, when he had raved through every sort of madness, he turned his sword with raging hand against the hearts of six of his champions. It is doubtful whether this madness came from thirst for battle or natural ferocity. Then with the remaining band of his champions he attacked Halfdan, who crushed him with a hammer of wondrous size, so that he lost both victory and life; paying the penalty both to Halfdan, whom he had challenged, and to the kings whose offspring he had violently ravished.

Even when they went to battle in groups, the bear-sarks fought as single champions. The wolf-jackets, following the habits of their totem, may have worked together in a more organized fashion. A 7th century bronze helmet plaque shows a one-eyed warrior dancing with a man in a wolf skin and may represent a ritual. King Harold Fairhair had a group of ulfhedinn, and in a praise poem for the king by Thórbiörn Hornklofi, they are described as fighting with shield and spear in a closed group. In Hrolf Kraki's saga, the kings of Sweden and Denmark both have bands of a dozen berserkers in their retinues. Kris Kershaw (2000, 58) suggests that fighting a berserk was part of a ritual in which a youth proved his manhood. He believes that the Indo-European forerunner of Odin may have been primarily associated with wolves and discusses a variety of wolf cults from Anatolia, Greece, Ireland, the Slavic lands, and India. In Norse tradition, the best known “wolf warriors” are Sigmund and his son Sinfjotli.

Now one day they went again to the forest in order to find themselves riches, and came to a cabin, and in the cabin there were two men asleep, wearing heavy gold rings. An evil fate had overtaken them, for there were wolf skins (ulfahamr) hanging above them in the cabin. They could shed the skins once every ten days. They were princes. Sigmund and Sinfjotli got into the skins, and could not get out of them again—the strange power was there, just as before, and they even howled like wolves, both understanding what was being said. (Volsungasaga 8)

In The One-Eyed God, Chris Kershaw explores an early Germanic tradition of warrior training called the mannerbunde, based on accounts of warrior training in various German tribes in Tacitus's Germania. The mannerbunde was

a cultic warrior brotherhood of young males, bound by oath to a god and to each other and in ritual union with their ancestors, in training to be the men, or the leading men, of their society. The word is used of age-set systems in which the military aspect of the youths' formation is particularly important. It is not an ideal term: the youths are not men yet; they are in process of becoming men. (Kershaw, 2000, xi)

He goes on to compare the customs described by Tacitus with ethnographic studies of warrior societies from the Vedas and ancient Greece to the Masai, involving masks; animal identities such as the dog, wolf, horse, and bear; and a cult in which, through the young men, the ancestors live again. Typically, for a good part of the period, the boy lived in the forest like the beasts of the forest; he became a hardy and crafty hunter and fighter. When a tribe went to war, these youths were used as shock troops and guerrillas, painted black, often masked, and revved up by ritual to become an army of the dead and thus immortal.

Anyone who has raised boys can appreciate the benefits of a system that gets them out of town during the years in which their growing strength and raging hormones are most likely to get them into trouble. Going into the army can serve the same purpose today. In the system described by Tacitus, once the young warriors had settled down, they were able to go home and become responsible members of society. In the Chatti tribe, certain warriors continued in this status instead of returning to the tribe and served as trainers of boys lifelong.

The altered state of consciousness that is Odin's gift to his warriors does not always involve chewing on one's shield, as we see in John T. Mainer's account of his first battle.

My first firefight was my worst. We were deployed as communications support for a multi-national peace-keeping force. Our security element was not drawn from NATO countries, and our confidence in them was low. As a result, we did one shift on communications, one on guard, and one off. I was off shift, sleeping, deeply fatigued from running two on/one off except when our moves happened in the off shift. Then, instead of sleep, you did transport and digging new generator pits and fighting positions.

The call to stand-to took me out of a deep sleep. I was dragged from my position, run to a slit trench and dropped there alone by an NCO who went to drag another warm body to the next position. I had no idea what the situation was. I was facing our supposed rear, with no idea what my safe arc of fire was, no communication, and only the sound of gunfire getting closer as a guide. It was night. Each of us might as well have been on the moon, we were so isolated. The traditional strengths of a soldier were stripped from me as I had no idea what was going on, no idea what, besides defending our location, my tasking was, where friendlies or enemies were, or what changes had been made to our ROE now that we were under direct attack. We had no night vision gear in those days. I was alone in a slit trench, a firefight happening in the tree line. No idea what to do at all. Fear paralyzed me and I had bile in my throat. I did not pray for safety, or even victory. I asked Odin, Sigfather, Victory Father, to understand what was happening.

You do not seek out the combat arms of the Service if you do not wish to test yourself in combat. I had sought this test, had thrown myself into the training and preparation for this moment. I had all the tools, but no idea how to use them, or which to bring to bear. All of this was within me when Odin came upon me to fill in the blanks, to fill me with the ice-rage, the battle coldness. I felt it come upon me and the night, although still broken by flashes of fire and sound, seemed to grow almost still. I felt a joy rise up in me and I felt my thoughts guided to consider a number of points one by one.

I focused on sound first. I noted the familiar timbre of our own weapons, noted the two groups fighting to our rear, the right-most group sounded like the familiar sounds of our own munitions. The left group did not. I then felt my eyes drawn to consider the muzzle flashes.

Flash suppressors do not hide the flash of burning propellant. You can't do that. What they do is side-scatter the blast to reduce the long tongue of flame that allows you to accurately back-plot the shooter. There is a pattern familiar from a hundred exercises of our own weapons firing in the dark. The right-most group had that. The left-most group did not.

At that point the pattern of the battle unfolded for me. I felt the joy fill me. The fear was not gone, but what it was now wove with the joy into something new. I fired every two or three seconds in steady aimed fire. Many of those points of fire that I back-plotted and engaged stopped firing, either taking cover or downed by my rounds.

To be filled by the Battle-Glad, to embrace the ice rage, is not to be faster, or smarter, or stronger. It is to let everything non-essential drop away. Your training, your instincts, they remain. What the berserker feels is what the Japanese might understand as Mushin; no thought. What Miyamoto Musashi called attitude-no attitude, neither focused on attack nor on defense, simply riding the tides of battle like a raven rides the wind, instinct and training merging to allow you to act without thought as smoothly as if you had drilled this specific maneuver a thousand times before.

There is a saying in the community—slow is smooth, smooth is fast. It is not that berserkers move faster. It is that in the Ice Rage, or Mushin, as the Japanese Kendo community would know it, you do not waste thought or motion. You move at appropriate speed. You have let go of all extraneous awareness and only those things of tactical importance are left in your sight. You are only seeing and focusing on those things your long training and instinct have taught you are important, and only judging them on the criteria that you have trained yourself to consider.

Your decisions are not robotic. They are more instinctive, like a hunting wolf. There is no hesitation. This gives the impression of thinking swiftly when what is really happening is that you have shut down all non-essential thoughts so that from your perspective you have a lot of time to consider the information you are taking in. You do not have to rush your decisions, they simply flow. Fear is fuel. Pain is simply noted, frequently also as fuel. Otherwise they are part of the data that you have quit paying attention to while you are busy. When you are finished, there is a euphoria.

When that is done, there comes the energy crash and tendency to brood as the things you ignored now take their turn to play across your thoughts. Nothing is free. The gifts of the Battle-Glad are like any other coping mechanism. They give you a gift with one hand and submit a bill with the other.

On balance, they are worth it.

Men of Odin

Soldiers are not the only ones who encounter Odin as a warrior. Many men identify with and admire Odin, but working with him can actually be harder for males. Looking at the lore for stories about heroes associated with Odin, including Sigmund and Sinfjotli, Starkad, Hadding, Harald Fairhair, Helgi Hundingsbane, and Egil Skallagrimsson, will give you a sense of the benefits and hazards of the relationship.

Some people are immediately drawn to Odin, while others, like Deryk, find that he has chosen them.

Now when I joined ADF (Ar n'Draoicht Fein, a Pagan church based on ancient Indo-European traditions), I originally planned on going Celtic, since it was part of my ancestry and I figured it would be appropriate. . . . Well then the All-Father decided to come and pay me a visit and explain a few things to me. Sometimes he will shove me in a direction to work on something and when I screw it up, I hear laughter and occasionally as I muddle through it I hear “Are we learning yet?” I have zero complaints about the relationship, and I know he has been around me my entire life, just a figure mostly unnoticed in the background. I don't believe it is necessary to have a personal relationship with the kindreds, just take your time making offerings and praise and if something starts to develop, and you're interested in that happening, then continue it. In my daily devotional, I pray to sixteen gods and the three Norns . . . as well as the ancestors and wights.

It is important to note that Odin does not necessarily require an exclusive commitment. For some people, henotheism, in which one recognizes all the gods but worships only one, is the best path, but for others, Odin may be the most important but is not the only god. In fact, in my experience, Odin promotes communication not only with other deities in the Norse pantheon but even with other pantheons. Connecting with them through us is one way he learns. Heathenry is, after all, a polytheistic religion.

I find some support for this view in Völuspá 23, which tells us that the war between the Æsir and the Vanir was about whether the two groups should share “wassail”; it ended with an alliance in which Njordh, Frey, and Freyja became part of the Asgard community, receiving equal honors as they do today. In book one of Saxo's history of the Danes, when Odin leaves Asgard, a person called “Mid-Odin” takes over and decrees that all the gods should receive separate offerings instead of sharing. Odin reverses this ruling when he returns.

Some of my best opportunities to observe the ways in which men react to Odin have been at Trothmoot, the annual meeting of an international Heathen organization, the Troth, that is held somewhere in the United States each June.

The high point of the moot—a conference that includes meetings, workshops, and rituals—is the Saturday night Grand Sumble, a practice that descends from the same traditions as toasting at a banquet, and the Greek symposium. In its most typical form, a drinking horn full of mead is blessed and carried around the circle three times. In the first round, each participant drinks to a goddess or god. In the second, we toast our actual ancestors or people from the past whom we admire. In the third, people can toast other living humans, but this is also the place to boast of one's accomplishments or to take an oath. In Heathenry, oaths are very serious business, since the “luck” of those who bear witness is linked to the outcome. For this reason, one of the group is designated as Thul, or Speaker, one of whose jobs is to challenge any oath that seems foolish, dangerous, or impossible.

From time to time, someone, usually a young man, will stand up and try to dedicate himself to Odin. The declaration is often greeted by a groan, followed by a challenge from the Thul. The trouble with an oath to die in the trenches for Odin is that he may just take you up on it. I know quite a few people who have sworn themselves to Odin (and some who have found themselves in his service without ever actually having formally agreed), but when the community consents to bear witness, it is because they know that the individual has studied the lore, developed a relationship with the god, and has a clue as to what he, she, or they are getting into.

I remember how everyone laughed when a young man who attended one of our oracular sessions stated that he was thinking of going into police work and wanted to know whether Odin would protect him. The problem with serving the Giver of Victory is that he grants victory for his reasons, not ours. As you shall see in the discussion of Odin as the Stirrer of Strife, he is a god who often seems to feel that the end justifies the means. We had to explain to the young man that Odin might well protect him, but the god would also sacrifice him if some greater purpose required it. The path taken by those who enter law enforcement or the military implies that they are willing to lay down their lives for those whom they are sworn to protect. Swearing that oath in the name of Odin does not mean you will be safe, but it does improve the odds that if you die, it will be for a good reason.

If you are thinking of getting involved with Odin, this advice from Hrafnskjald, given in an e-mail on the Troth members' list, is worth remembering:

1. Just because he asks doesn't mean you have to agree. You have, and should respect, your own boundaries and limits on what you are willing to do. We are not slaves to the gods, nor their masters, but rather the relationship is one of mutual consent. Don't feel afraid to push back or say no if something feels wrong.

2. Don't feel pressured to agree to any deals, make any oaths, etc., until you know what is right for you. You'll know when it's right because at that point you won't have any hesitations.

3. Our gods are not picky when it comes to the details of rites, especially for people just starting out; rather, the intention is what is key. Respect yourself, and them, and you won't go wrong. They want us to do worthy deeds and live lives that improve our communities and the world, and they can be great allies in life's struggle. The image here is more of a parent teaching a child to read and less of that same child taking a standardized test on reading: you might make mistakes as you learn, but that's okay.

4. Breathe. You are still the person you were, only you have new insights and some new friends.

There are other situations in which one might need the kind of courage that Odin can give. The first type of Heathenry to gain a foothold in prison culture was “Odinism” as taught by the Odinic Rite, an organization founded in the United Kingdom in 1973. Many incarcerated men have found the Viking virtues of courage, strength, dedication, and self-discipline an inspiration in their struggle to survive. Unfortunately, the Odinic Rite's founders had links to neo-Nazis, and this interpretation of Heathenry gives white prisoners an ethnic identity in a prison population that often (apparently with the tacit support of the authorities) seems to be divided along racial lines.

For this reason, many Heathen groups avoid prison work and ex-prisoners. However, eventually some of those who learn about Heathenry in prison are going to come out. In recent years, inclusive organizations such as the Troth have begun “in-reach” programs, providing materials and counsel so that ex-prisoners understand that racial separatism is not a Heathen virtue, no matter what they had to do to survive inside.

Working with Odin can be challenging. I am grateful to one correspondent, Connor McOdinmahon for sharing this prayer:

Hail Odin . . . Odin, why?

The struggle is at times incomprehensible,

I question whether I am being made stronger or being slowly killed,

I question the plan, but my faith does not waver,

Great Odin, bringer of glory, I ask you do not give up on me,

Through the pain, the blood, the agony, and the inner turmoil,

I'm battered, I'm bruised, but I'm still here, still standing,

And it's to you I look above all,

You have me on my spear, and I am bleeding like never before.

The darkness of Ginnungagap can be heard, it's so intense,

Inspire me to reject the turmoil and pull myself off my spear,

Inspire me to get off the tree and hit the soil,

Throughout the struggle and the questions, and though the night remains,

My trust, faith, and fealty do as well.

Here they are, here they stay.

Great All-father, I ask and plead for your strength and inspiration.

When I wrote to him, asking if I could quote this in the book, he replied with the following:

Something WEIRD happened after I sent out that Odinic dedication/call/prayer. I'm still digesting it, physically, mentally, spiritually . . .

Long story short . . . hit a VERY low point, practically cracked, poured out the Odin prayer (which I barely even remember doing, it was so spontaneous and I was in such a distressed mental state), and a few interesting things, in a good way, happened. After a desperate job search (thousands of applications all over the world, and I have multiple degrees in business strategy), it was like calls and emails started rolling in like never before out of nowhere.

And the craziest thing . . . after I sent that out, I put my Odin mini-statue right by my monitor, looking directly at me, and wrote like I've never written before. Business articles, history, Asatru-related, etc., . . . they flowed out like CRAZY. I've been working on a novel for about four years now, and finally feel I'm able to complete it. It's just a weird feeling, Diana.

I've also met more friends in the last several days than the last several years.

I cannot promise that Odin will always provide such a spectacular answer to your prayers, but sometimes, the stroke of his spear will set you free.

Practice

1. Read any or all of the following:

Egil's Saga, either the Penguin edition translated by Bernard Scudder, or my favorite, the one translated by novelist E. R. Eddison.

The Saga of the Volsungs, translated by Jesse Byock, Penguin Classics—lots of Odinic heroes.

The chapters featuring the Rohirrim in The Two Towers and The Return of the King, by J. R. R. Tolkien.

The Broken Sword, by Poul Anderson, Del Rey Books, 1954 (reissued in 1981). This is the book that turned me on to Germanic culture.

The Dragons of the Rhine, Diana Paxson, William Morrow, 1995. This is the middle book in my Wodan's Children trilogy and the one with the most battles. The other two books are The Wolf and the Raven and The Lord of Horses.

The High King of Montival, by S. M. Stirling, RoC, 2010, or anything else in the Emberverse saga. Stirling does great battle scenes.

2. Get (back) into shape.

Exercise. If you have trained in a martial art, continue, or consider resuming it or take up a new one. If you are already fit or just getting into shape, add a spiritual dimension to your practice. Before you begin, do some conscious breathing. As you move, open your awareness to your surroundings and to the spirit of Odin within you.

3. Find a battle that needs fighting.

Not all wars are won with weapons. It takes a different kind of courage to fight for the rights of minority groups and environmental protection. My belief is that Odin is particularly concerned about threats to the ecosystem in which we and our civilization and religion evolved. For more on this, see chapter 9. You will also find a battle song, the “Gjallarhorn Alliance Anthem,” in appendix 2.

4. Sixth Night Meditation—The Warrior

Set up your altar as usual and light a red candle. If you have a favorite or ritual weapon, have it there as well. Whisky would be an appropriate drink to pour. Then say:

Odin, by these names I call you:

Herjafadhr (Army Father)

Ófnir (Inciter)

Hvatmódh (Whet-Courage)

Sigfadhr (Victory Father)

Atrith (Attacking Rider)

Geirdrottin (Lord of the Spear)

Göllnir (Battle Screamer)

Herteit (Glad in Battle)

Hildolf (Battle Wolf)

Hjalmberi (Helmet Bearer)

Járngrím (Iron Mask)

Svölnir (Shield Bearer)

Vidhurr (Killer)

Haptagudh (Fetter God)

Hramm (Fetterer, Ripper)

Herblindi (Army Blind)

What battles do you face? What threatens you or those you care for? Who are your enemies and why do you consider them foes? Remember that some battles are fought within. Think about this carefully and consider how much and what kind of force is appropriate to use in opposing them. Make a plan of attack.

If, on reflection, you conclude that you are justified in calling on the Father of Armies, chant this prayer to the rhythm of marching feet until you feel your heartbeat speed. As you do so, bring to mind your enemies and the reasons you must oppose them.

Exalted by hate

Our enemies wait.

Baleful, they boast

And gather their host.

Whet-Courage call

Fight-frenzy for all.

Incite the attack

And help us fight back!

As they abide

Blind in their pride.

Fetter the foe,

Lord, lay them low.

Sigfather, shield

And we shall not yield.

Strong may we stand,

Warding our land.

Battle-Glad bless

us with success.

War-father, hear,

Odin, be near!

Focus your passion. Visualize the result you desire. Let the chant build until you sense it is time to send it like a spear against your foe. When you are done, pay attention to your breathing, slowing it until you are aware of your surroundings again.

Then take action! Make a list of the things you are going to do in the real world (while staying within the law) to put your money where your mouth is. For instance, if your attack is directed against those who harm the environment, use your voice, your resources, and, if necessary, your body to support the efforts of environmental organizations and communities.

Bolverk and the Thralls

Odin departed from home and came to a certain place where nine thralls were mowing hay. He asked if they desired him to whet their scythes, and they assented. Then he took a hone from his belt and whetted the scythes; it seemed to them that the scythes cut better by far, and they asked that the hone be sold them. But he put such a value on it that whoso desired to buy must give a considerable price: nonetheless all said that they would agree and prayed him to sell it to them. He cast the hone up into the air; but since all wished to lay their hands on it, they became so intermingled with one another that each struck with his scythe against the other's neck.

Odin sought a night's lodging with the giant who is called Baugi, Suttung's brother. Baugi bewailed his husbandry, saying that his nine thralls had killed one another, and declared that he had no hope of workmen. Odin called himself Bölverkr in Baugi's presence; he offered to undertake nine men's work for Baugi, and demanded for his wages one drink of Suttungr's Mead. Baugi declared that he had no control whatever over the mead, and said that Suttungr was determined to have it to himself, but promised to go with Bölverkr and try if they might get the mead. During the summer Bölverkr accomplished nine men's work for Baugi, but when winter came he asked Baugi for his hire.

Then they both set out for Suttungr's. Baugi told Suttungr his brother of his bargain with Bölverkr; but Suttungr flatly refused them a single drop of the mead. Then Bölverkr made suggestion to Baugi that they try certain wiles, if perchance they might find means to get at the mead; and Baugi agreed readily. Thereupon Bölverkr drew out the auger called Rati, saying that Baugi must bore the rock, if the auger cut. He did so. At last Baugi said that the rock was bored through, but Bölverkr blew into the auger-hole, and the chips flew up at him. Then he discovered that Baugi would have deceived him, and he bade him bore through the rock. Baugi bored anew; and when Bölverkr blew a second time, then the chips were blown in by the blast.

Then Bölrkr turned himself into a serpent and crawled into the auger-hole, but Baugi thrust at him from behind with the auger and missed him. Bölverkr proceeded to the place where Gunnlöd was, and lay with her three nights; and then she gave him leave to drink three draughts of the mead.

—Snorri Sturlusson, Skaldskaparmál 1,

translated by Arthur Gilchrist Brodeur (1916)

Fig. 15. Bolverk