A Handbook of Saxon Sorcery & Magic: Wyrdworking, Rune Craft, Divination & Wortcunning - Alaric Albertsson 2017

Earthly Runes
Runes and Rúncræft

The technological wonders that improve the quality of our lives also have a tendency to distance us from the natural world. We often forget how harsh and demanding the world can be. Whenever I hear people say how much they like winter, I have to wonder if the sentiment would be the same if they were deprived of artificial warmth and readily available food, and had to actually experience winter firsthand. For animals living in a temperate environment (including most of mankind throughout history), winter has always been a time of deprivation. There is nothing quaint or charming about the season for those who are fully immersed in it. There is only cold, hunger, and the threat of death.

The early, pre-Christian Saxons were thoroughly a part of the natural world. They had no electric or gas heating. No artificial lighting. No supermarket to provide foods transported from all over the world. They were truly involved with their world in a way that we can only imagine today. Survival from one year to the next was a crapshoot. Drought, fire, fungus, insects, or a shorter than usual growing season could mean starvation. The cold of winter had to be staved off for months. Stacks of firewood had to be cut or gathered. Cattle and sheep were often brought into homes to provide body warmth. And the dark of winter was equally challenging; with the fading light it became more difficult to graze livestock, and poultry ceased to lay eggs.

For travelers there were no pavements or street signs. Sojourners depended on the sun, moon, and stars as directional guides, as well as for light. Have you ever camped in the woods on a clouded night? With no flashlights or street lamps, the darkness is almost palpable.

The earthly runes of the Futhorc reflect the natural world of the early Saxons. It was a world teeming with dangers but illuminated with hope.

GEAR: Harvest

(YAE-ar)

Phonetic Value: y, as in yes

Gear biþ gumena hiht, þonne god læteþ,

hálig heofones cyning, hrúsan sellan

beorhte bléda beornum and þearfum.

The year is mankind’s joy, when the god bequeaths,

ruler of the sacred sky, the earth offers

splendid crops for the well-born and the poor.

The Old English word gear means “year,” but this passage of the Rune Poem is clearly speaking of one specific event that occurred each year in the lives of the Anglo-Saxons. Obviously food was harvested throughout the growing season, but the annual grain harvest was a cause for celebration and thanksgiving in every Anglo-Saxon community. The health, security, and prosperity of the community depended on that harvest. While gear may mean year, the Rune Poem does not speak to us here of the chilling cold of winter, nor of the sweet promise of spring, but of the joy and blessing of the grain harvest.

The harvested grain was either barley, rye, wheat, oats, or a combination of these. All of it was collectively referred to as corn, which, in Old English, simply meant seed or grain. These grains provided a significant portion of the Saxon’s diet, consumed primarily in the form of breads and porridges. The harvest also provided straw, which was used as fodder, for roofing material, and in the manufacture of baskets and even furniture. A poor harvest could have an extremely negative impact on an early English community in multiple ways.

With the blessing of the god, the earth would offer up an abundant harvest that could have an equally positive impact on the community. An abundant harvest ensured plenty of food. The blessing of the god could mean surplus grain and straw to trade with neighboring villages. But who was this generous god? What deity transformed the year into “mankind’s joy” (gumena hiht)?

At the time the Rune Poem was recorded, this passage must have been thought to reference the Biblical god. However, the wording of the poem gives us some clue as to an earlier meaning. The god in question is the king or ruler of the sky (heofones cyning). This sounds like an accurate description of Thunor, whose chariot causes the roll of thunder when he rides across the heavens. There is also a declaration that the god’s blessing—the harvest—is intended to benefit the poor (þearfum) as well as the nobility, and the god Thunor is notable as a patron and defender of the common man.

The bounty of the harvest is a blessing, but it is not exactly a gift. The verb lætan means to bequeath, to leave alone, or to set free. Thunor can choose to prevent or allow a good harvest, but the possibility does not exist without our own effort. We must first till the soil, plant the seed, and cultivate the growing crop. The rune gear speaks to us of an earned reward. It represents our efforts brought to fruition.

In form, the rune is a long stroke bordered with two smaller angles. Runes were originally carved into wood and stone, and thus consisted of straight vertical, horizontal, or diagonal strokes. It does not take much imagination to see that the smaller angles, on a smooth surface, could be rounded into a circle. Viewed in this way, we see the annual cycle bisected by a longer stroke to indicate the waxing and waning halves of the year.

In the proto-Germanic Elder Futhark, the rune is marked with this form:

Here we see the waxing and waning symbolism even more clearly in a character that suggests the shape of the image representing the Taoist concept of yin and yang. I am not suggesting there is any direct relationship, but it should not surprise us if underlying universal truths manifest in similar ways within the human psyche.

These two halves, whether carved as in the Elder Futhark or as depicted in the Futhorc, also call to mind the fundamental Indo-European idea of “a gift for a gift.” We give forth our effort—tilling, seeding, cultivating—and the earth gives forth new crops. We give offerings and praise to Thunor, and he in turn blesses those crops and allows them to manifest in abundance.

Gear is a rune of cycles. Its meaning in a divination can be enigmatic. When consulting the runes on someone else’s behalf, unless other runes in the reading offer clarification, the wiglere should not make assumptions. Usually the presence of gear indicates a positive outcome. The querent will be rewarded for his or her effort. But there is no time specified for this. The reward could come a long way down the road. If so, the rune is saying “keep your chin up,” which may not be what the querent wants to hear.

Furthermore, if there are no other runes giving clarification, gear could mean something quite nasty. If the querent has been secretly seeing another guy behind her boyfriend’s back, gear could indicate that the boyfriend has caught on. The runes do not have upright and reversed meanings, but they certainly can have positive and negative meanings. And when gear is negative, it tells the querent that he is about to get what he deserves.

In rúncræft, use gear when you want to claim your just reward. The most obvious use is in a legal trial, so long as you are absolutely certain that you are on the right side of the law! Use this rune alone or in combination with tir and ác to get a fair decision. But gear does not need a judge or jury to prove its usefulness. Use it with feoh when you are ready to ask your boss for a raise, if you are sure you deserve the raise. If you have put in long hours on a project, whether for school or work, gear may help you gain the recognition you have earned. This is a rune of harvest, and that is what it brings into manifestation.

In your mind’s eye, envision people harvesting a field of grain. One person is cutting the stalks with a sickle, while other people are bundling them. Notice that all are hard at work. They have an abundant harvest, but they are not getting something for nothing. In the distance, a bolt of lightning comes down from the sky, reminding you that the harvest—the result of the work these people have put in—is also a blessing of “the ruler of the sacred sky.”

HAGOL: Hail

(HAG-ol)

Phonetic Value: h, as in hat

Hagol biþ hwítost corna, hwyrft hit of heofones lyfte,

wealcaþ hit windes scúra,

weorþeþ hit tó wætere syððan.

Hail is the whitest of seeds, its circling comes from the lofty sky,

it tosses in the wind’s shower,

it then becomes water afterwards.

Even today, in the most urban environments, a hailstorm is a disruption and potential danger. Hail presented an even greater threat throughout pre-Christian Europe, when men and women spent much more time in outside pursuits, and when damaged fields could mean starvation. Truly life-threatening hail is a rarity in Europe; the worst hailstorms—those most likely to form large, deadly stones—tend to occur in India, mainland China, and Bangladesh.

The Rune Poem does not emphasize or even allude to the damage caused by hail. We are told in other passages of the poem that elk-sedge “cruelly wounds,” that the aurochs is “very fierce,” and yet hail is described almost poetically as the “whitest of seeds” (hwitost corna). There was no need to mention the stinging pain these white seeds could inflict or the damage they could do to young, tender plants; hail’s association with storms is evident. The hail comes from the sky and is tossed about by the wind. But the mystery of hagol is that it is a corn, meaning a grain or seed. What does this mean? Obviously the hailstone cannot be ground into meal or flour. It cannot be boiled to make a porridge. The poem uses the word corn, or seed, to mean a vessel for potential. Every seed is a magical thing with the potential to transform into something else. The barley-corn bears the potential for a new barley crop. The little acorn has the potential to become a great oak tree.

None of these transformations occur until the seed falls to the earth, and the same is true for hail. While in the sky, the poem tells us, it circles and tosses. But then the seed falls and transforms, becoming water. It becomes the essential substance of life. The seed is transformed into something not only harmless, but beneficial. There is a direct relationship between precipitation and the fertility of the land. Regions with little precipitation become barren; regions with abundant precipitation are blessed with lush growth.

Hagol indicates the transformation of something unpleasant and disruptive into something beneficial. This is illustrated in the form of the rune. The two upright strokes represent the beginning and end of the transformation, with an angular stroke connecting one to the other. The angular, diagonal connection is sometimes marked as a pair of strokes instead of a single line. In the Younger Futhark—the runes that were used in Norway, Sweden, and Iceland—hagol took on the form that evolved into the rune ior of the Anglo-Saxon Futhorc. The two runes are also similar in meaning, but whereas ior indicates adaptability to change, hagol represents the change itself.

Change, like small hailstones, can be painful. Because of this, hagol is rarely a welcome rune when it comes up in a divination. It represents a change or disruption not of the querent’s choosing. The querent should be prepared to be tossed about, metaphorically speaking. But the rune is also telling the wiglere that the ultimate outcome will be good.

In my personal experience, hagol usually indicates a small disruption rather than a catastrophe. Of course, at the time it occurs, a “small disruption” can seem quite imposing. An essential element of this disruption is the transformation that follows. In some way, something in the querent’s life has changed. He or she may have learned a valuable lesson or forged a new relationship or profited from some other, perhaps subtle, life change, but the change—the transformation—is always there.

Because change can be painful, I rarely use hagol in rúncræft. Its use as an offensive, cursing rune should be obvious. Otherwise it is only useful when the rúnwita wants to create a transformation and does not care about the cost. There are times when we do have to face challenges in this way. Some examples are:

· • ending an unhealthy friendship, a sour romance, or any other ongoing personal relationship

· • a gay person coming out to family and friends

· • any person, straight or gay, “coming out” by sharing personal feelings that may alter relationships with family and friends; Pagans who were raised in another faith, usually those raised in a monotheistic faith, often face this challenge

· • changing from one career to another (not just changing jobs, but a life-altering career change)

· • breaking a stubborn and enduring addiction

Hagol can be used alone when confronting any of the above challenges. There will usually be a point, a moment, when you make a resolution to move forward and endure the transformation. Using hagol in a simple spell, make downward motions with both hands simultaneously to mark the rune’s upright strokes. Then, using your dominant hand, mark the angled stroke joining the uprights as you say “Weortheth hit” (WEH-oar-theth hit) in a firm voice. If you have trouble with the Old English, simply say, “It comes to pass.” Notice that this is expressed in the present tense. We do not say “it will come to pass” because this places our intention at some undefined point in the future rather than here and now. The transformation will not achieve completion immediately, but it must begin immediately, so you need to express that immediacy. This gesture and expression can be used at the conclusion of any spell intended to effect a transformation.

When trying to break an addiction, craft a charm combining hagol with ur (for strength) and éoh (for balance).

In your mind’s eye, envision a person running to get out of a hailstorm. He protects his head with his arms as he runs. Hail falls all around this person, countless pellets of ice pummeling the landscape. But on the ground, the hail is already melting. Pools of life-sustaining water form on the earth.

IS: Ice

(EES)

Phonetic Value: ee, as in bee; or i, as in pit

Is byþ oferceald, ungemetum slidor,

glisnaþ glæshlútor, gimmum gelícost,

flór forste geworuht, fæger ansíene.

Ice is extremely cold, very slippery,

it glistens clear, like precious gems,

a floor wrought by frost, fair thing seen.

In northern European cosmology, ice and fire are the primal elements of creation. At the beginning of time, endless frost poured from out of the north. Meanwhile endless fire raged from the south. These two primal elements—ice and fire—came together to form the base materials that would be molded into our universe. And so two forces inimical to life merged to become harmless and benign.

But these forces alone, both ice and fire, are dangerous elements. Just as ordinary table salt is a combination of two deadly chemicals (sodium and chlorine), the substance of the universe is a combination of two deadly forces. It goes without saying that life is threatened by extreme temperatures. Taken far enough, both fire (extreme heat) and ice (extreme cold) can eliminate all life as we know it.

The opposition of heat and cold is also a fundamental concept of the elemental theory developed in southern Europe. States of heat and cold were described poetically by philosopher-scientists as “water” (cold) and “fire” (hot). These states of energy were further defined by humidity—whether something was moist or dry—adding the elements of “earth” and “air” to this model. These elements were the postulates underlying Hippocrates’ theory of humors, which served as the basis of Western medicine for centuries. We will explore this further in the Wortcunning chapter.

The Anglo-Saxon Rune Poem acknowledges the inherent danger of ice. It describes the element as extremely cold (oferceald). To the Anglo-Saxons, ice was the physical manifestation of cold. It was only when fields and forests died under winter’s frigid breath that ice crept across the surface of ponds and encased the limbs of ash, oak, and hawthorn trees. The poem goes on to describe ice as being very slippery (ungemetum slidor). This slippery quality is more than a mere inconvenience even today. This past winter, while driving to a divination workshop in Pittsburgh, I was surprised when traffic came to a complete standstill on Liberty Avenue. Sheets of black ice along the street terrified motorists whose vehicles had no traction on the slick surface. Each of us was aware that we could be involved in a collision at any moment due to the ice covering the street. Fifteen centuries ago, a slick, icy surface could mean a broken leg for an ox or a horse, resulting in the loss of the valuable animal.

After reminding us of the potential danger of ice, the Rune Poem continues on to speak of its beauty. Ice is described as fair (fæger) and is likened in appearance to gemstones (gimmum). There is a reference to “a floor wrought by frost” (flór forste geworuht), possibly a description of the ice covering a pond or lake. Poets have long remarked on the beautiful, fairy-like landscapes often created by ice in all its forms during the northern winter.

In form, the is rune is a single, simple vertical stroke. The image is sharp and abrupt. For this reason we never use is in a bindrune. It disappears in a bindrune, much as ice disappears or melts away when cold weather recedes. The mystery of is can be summed up in the expression “all that glitters is not gold.” In a divination, this rune warns us that all is not what it seems. What we perceive as a fair thing is, in fact, slippery and potentially dangerous. Is urges the querent to exercise caution.

The rune does not indicate an unavoidable catastrophe. As with thorn, the is rune speaks of dangers that can be easily avoided. The danger is visible if you look for it, only in this case it is also fair and beautiful. The querent needs to take a closer look at the situation. If you are pursuing a new romantic relationship, proceed with caution. If you are thinking about quitting your job and moving to another company, take a closer look at your prospective employer. Even if you are not aware of any changes in your immediate future, even if your life is fairly stable at the moment, poke around to see if there is a fly hiding somewhere in the ointment.

The appearance of is in a divination is not a cause for panic or undue concern; it is simply telling you that things are not exactly as they seem. After you see beyond the illusion, you may want to continue forward with no change in your plans. The slippery dangers hinted at by this rune may well be challenges you are willing to face once you are aware of them.

I have never used is in rúncræft and cannot envision any reason for doing so. It is not an influence that I would want to bring into my own life. I suppose it could be used as an aggressive, cursing rune, but I do not recommend this. For reasons discussed elsewhere in this book, I usually view cursing as a pointless waste of time, and I hope the reader is wise enough to reach this same conclusion.

When contemplating this rune, imagine in your mind’s eye an icy bejeweled landscape. The ground itself seems to be “wrought by frost,” while icicles hang from frozen tree boughs like sparkling gems. It is all extremely cold, and possibly dangerous, but the cold and slipperiness are masked with beauty.

SIGEL: Sun

(SEE-yel)

Phonetic Value: s, as in sauce; or z, as in brazen

Sigel sæmannum simble biþ on hihte,

þonne híe hine fériaþ ofer fisces bæþ,

oþ híe brimhengest bringeþ tó lande.

The sun for sailors is always hoped for,

when they depart over the fishes’ bath,

until their ship carries them to land.

Southern European cultures perceived the sun as masculine, but in northern Europe, this celestial orb is feminine. Germanic people called her Sunne or Sunna. Like the southern masculine solar gods, such as Helios and Ra, the goddess Sunne was depicted as riding across the sky in a cart or chariot. She was called the “glory of Elves.” The Anglo-Saxons also referred to her as “heaven’s gem.” These kennings illustrate how the people of northern Europe adored the goddess who illuminates our Middle Earth.

The sun, of course, is necessary for our very existence, and the people of Pagan Europe were keenly aware of its importance in their lives. Sunlight affected not only the growth of their crops, but also the behavior of their livestock. Cattle cease to graze after nightfall, and egg production is determined by how many hours of light hens are exposed to. Men and women were aware, too, of Sunne’s role in the earth’s seasonal changes. Long, sunny days came during the warm part of the year. Great bonfires were set aflame at the summer solstice to honor the fire above.

The Rune Poem likewise commends the sun, but for a reason not given above. In the Rune Poem, the sun is praised for its use in navigation, and especially as a boon for sailors. Most early maritime travel took place within sight of the coast. But the Rune Poem is more concerned with travel that takes place “over the fishes’ bath”—a poetic reference to the sea. Because their island realm was surrounded by the sea, the early English often used poetic descriptions like this when speaking of the ocean. It was called a “bath,” or the “swan’s road” (swan-rad) or “whale’s way” (hwæl-weg).

When a ship traveled farther out to sea, sailors needed some means for determining direction. Solar navigation is the oldest and simplest form of navigation. Sunne’s movement across the heavens clearly marked the east and west directions and gave some approximation of north and south. Sailors were dependent on the sun if they hoped to sail more than a few miles from the shoreline.

The rune takes the form of a ray of sunlight. The shape is angled, much like a modern representation of a lightning bolt. This is not entirely surprising when we consider that both of these—sunlight and lightning—are energy descending from the sky.

As we see from the Rune Poem, the sigel rune indicates guidance, and that is its meaning when it appears in a divination. It is almost always a good omen. Sigel tells the querent that he will receive the guidance he needs. This guidance can manifest in a variety of ways: help from a mentor, advice from a trusted friend, or a flash of personal inspiration. The querent still needs to confront his challenges—he still traverses the “fishes’ bath”—but he will have the benefit of some form of guidance as he does so. In this way, sigel is a rune of hope. It does not guarantee a positive outcome, but it suggests that the odds will favor the querent.

Sigel has an equally positive significance when used in rúncræft. Use this rune when you want to invoke guidance and blessing. Sigel, ur, and wynn can be used together to make a charm for good luck. Use it in a bindrune with gyfu to help guide your way in a new, hopeful relationship. Sigel and os are a good combination for a charm if you need to make a speech, or for anyone in the teaching profession.

The sigel rune is imposed perpendicular to itself to form the swastika. This was long a symbol of good fortune until the Third Reich usurped and tainted it. The swastika as it was displayed in the twentieth century by the Nazi party is still burdened with the shame and horror of unspeakable atrocities, but a softer, more rounded variation of the symbol was displayed elsewhere in northern Europe, including England. This variation is known as a fylfot, a name that may have evolved from the Old English féower fót, meaning “four footed.” The fylfot can be depicted exactly like a swastika, but it can also be drawn in the rounded variation like this:

I do not believe, myself, that there is anything inherently wrong with using the swastika as a good luck charm, but due to the negative associations that now shroud the swastika, I favor the rounded fylfot.

In your mind’s eye, envision yourself in a large seaworthy vessel. You are on the ocean, and there is no sign of any shore. But then you see her, Sunne, the Glory of Elves, as she rises in the east. She ascends above the horizon, and the way is now clear to you.

TIR: The North Star

(TEER)

Phonetic Value: t, as in tight

Tir biþ tácna sum, healdeð tréowa wel

wiþ æþelingas, á biþ on færylde,

ofer nihta genipu næfre swíceþ.

The north star is one signal, it holds faith well

with nobles, it is always on track,

throughout night’s darkness it never deceives.

Just as the sun was used for navigation during the daylight hours, the people of northern Europe relied on the North Star for navigating at night. The North Star is the star that would appear directly overhead if the viewer were standing at the North Pole. It is not the brightest star in the sky, but it is the star that always appears in the north, and thus it holds faith well (healdeð tréowa wel). The North Star can only be used for navigation in the Northern Hemisphere, as it is not visible from the Southern Hemisphere.

In the context of the Rune Poem, the North Star is Polaris. This is the same star that we know as the North Star today, but the star that holds this title—North Star—changes from one era to the next as all of the infinite stars make their slow procession across the heavens. Five thousand years ago, the North Star was a small star now called Thuban. A thousand years from now, Polaris will be succeeded by Gamma Cephei. For all practical purposes, however, each star bearing the title of North Star can be relied on to remain “on track” (on færylde) for centuries.

If you live in the Northern Hemisphere, you can find Polaris by first locating the constellation of Woden’s Wain, also known as Ursa Major or the Big Dipper. A wain is an open wagon. Woden’s Wain is always visible in the night sky, although its position changes. Once you have found the constellation, locate the two stars at the rear of the wagon, opposite the tongue. (If you are more familiar with this constellation as the Big Dipper, locate the two stars opposite the handle.) These two stars are sometimes called the Pointer Stars or the Pointers, because they point to our North Star. Visualize a line passing through these two stars up from the wagon (or dipper). Polaris is about five times farther away than the distance between the two Pointers.

Tir, or Tyr, is another name for the god who was known to the Anglo-Saxons as Tiw. I describe Tiw in more depth in Travels Through Middle Earth: The Path of a Saxon Pagan. Tiw is, among other things, a god of justice and order, which is why he is associated with the North Star. The characteristic that gave Polaris significance to the Anglo-Saxons was its constant reliability.

The similarity between the runes tir and sigil are immediately obvious—both the North Star and the sun were vital tools for celestial navigation. However, it would not make sense for two runes to embody the same mystery, so we must look a little deeper to identify the difference. Solar navigation is based on Sunne’s journey across the sky. This movement delineates east and west. Motion is an essential element of the mystery. Sigil represents guidance for movement or action. In contrast to this, the North Star is useful for navigation because of its fixed position. Polaris always points due north. Thus tir represents guidance for order and reliability, steadiness and truth.

The tir rune was often carved into weapons and shields to ensure that these would remain steadfast and resolute in battle. The rune invoked the power and protection of the god Tiw. In Old English, the word tir can also mean fame or glory.

The form of the rune is an arrow pointing upward. As anyone with even a passing familiarity with maps knows, “up” indicates “north.” The arrow is a reminder that the North Star is ever fixed in its northerly position.

The appearance of tir in wiglung is almost always a good sign. This rune indicates that truth will prevail. It means the triumph of justice, the restoration of order. If the querent has behaved in an honorable way, tir is a positive rune. It is triumphant and victorious. Under other circumstances, however, tir can be a most unwelcome portent. The person who has been stealing from his employer or lying to his spouse had better prepare to face the consequences when tir makes an appearance. Here the rune means that the querent’s dishonorable acts are about to be exposed.

In rúncræft, one of the most obvious uses for tir is to ensure a fair trial. Work this rune into a charm with ác and gear for this purpose. Ác bequeaths the internal resources—the patience and temperance—to endure the trial. Gear creates a cycle, stating that what has been planted shall be harvested. And, finally, tir invokes the power of justice and order. But this charm will only ensure fairness; it is of no benefit to a wrongful party.

Use tir with eh if you want to keep focused on a goal. Eh provides the means of reaching the goal, while tir will keep you fixed on your objective. A charm incorporating these two runes would make an excellent gift for someone starting college or beginning any long-term project, assuming the other person would appreciate such a talisman.

In your mind’s eye, envision the North Star glowing in the heavens, guiding you like a compass. It is ever faithful, ever sure in its position.

LAGu: Sea or Water

(LAH-goo)

Phonetic Value: l, as in lid

Lagu biþ léodum langsum geþúht,

gif híe sculun néþan on nacan tealtum,

and híe sæyþa swíþe brégaþ,

and sé brimhengest brídles ne gíemeð.

The sea seems of endless length to people,

if they must venture on unstable ships,

and the sea waves terrify them exceedingly,

and the ship does not heed its reins.

Along with sigel, this is one of the two seafaring passages in the Rune Poem. In both passages, however, the sea is incidental. In the passage for sigel, the sea is mentioned only to illustrate the value of the sun in navigation. In this passage, too, although the sea is referred to more directly, it is secondary to the quality or stability of a ship.

The Anglo-Saxons came to England from continental Europe in ships, of course, but the sea was not as central to their own culture as it was to their Norse cousins. There are no references, for example, in Old English lore to deities such as Njorðr, Ran, or Ægir, who rule the seas of the Scandinavians. Early Anglo-Saxon ships were double-ended, having the same shape at bow and stern, and were usually rowed rather than sailed. It is these ships or boats that are the focus of this passage of the Rune Poem. The sea seems to be of endless length (langsum geþúht) and the waves frighten or terrify (brégaþ), but there is nothing inherently evil suggested here. The problem is not with the sea, but with unstable, untrustworthy ships. The problem is the ship that “does not heed its reins” (bridles ne gíemeð). This poetic phrase is related to the word brimhengest, sea-stallion, which was a kenning used by the early English to describe a ship. It is because of unstable, unreliable ships that people have cause to fear the dangers of the sea.

I have often seen this rune interpreted as indicating a journey, but the basic idea of travel is echoed in several other runes. The mystery of lagu is deeper than this. The Rune Poem doesn’t speak directly of the journey, but rather of the potential danger of the journey. Furthermore, lagu tells us that we are ill prepared to confront that danger. We may have the ship—the means to traverse the waters of our lives—but that ship may not be as stable as we would hope. In this way, lagu often bears a resemblance to the mystery of is. There may be some deception or illusion if all appears well.

In form, lagu even resembles is if we were to snap the top of the latter rune and bend it down at an angle. The connection between these two runes should not come as a surprise to us. The Anglo-Saxons were aware of the relationship between ice and water. When we look at the shape of lagu, angled at the top, we see something broken and thus unstable. Compare also the shape of this rune with the shape of éoh, the yew, the rune of balance. Éoh is angled at both the top and bottom, creating an image of symmetry. Lagu only has an angle at one end, creating an image of imbalance.

When lagu appears in a divination, it indicates that the querent is not fully equipped to meet his challenges. He or she may or may not be aware of this. The problem could be almost anything: the querent’s social support, financial resources, education, mechanical or artistic skills, transportation, emotional fortitude, physical condition, or available time. The wiglere should be aware that the exact nature of the problem will be situational, and thus should not make assumptions when consulting the runes for somebody else.

What the wiglere can safely assume is that the problem is related to some physical, social, or spiritual journey the querent has embarked upon, or is preparing for. Lagu is not a warning about where the querent is now. It indicates that the querent is not securely equipped to reach some destination. This does not mean that the querent should give up or turn away from the goal or destination; what the querent needs to do is check his or her preparations, evaluate resources, and correct any weaknesses that might be uncovered.

This is another of those runes of the Futhorc that has few positive uses in rúncræft. Its power is to destabilize and weaken.

In your mind’s eye, envision a boat on the ocean. Tossed about by the waves, the vessel is insufficient for the journey. Water is pouring into the boat. Whether it will survive the journey is uncertain.

DÆG: Day

(DAY)

Phonetic Value: d, as in deed

Dæg biþ dryhtnes sond, déore mannum,

mære metodes léoht, myrgþ and tóhiht,

éadgum and earmum, eallum bryce.

The day is the god’s ambassador, beloved of men,

the great god’s light, mirth and also hope,

prosperous and poor, all enjoy it.

If a contest were ever held to determine the happiest rune of the Futhorc, dæg would almost certainly be the winner. The Old English word dæg means the same as the Modern English “day”; it can mean a complete twenty-four-hour cycle, or it can mean daytime in contrast to night. In this passage of the Rune Poem, the latter meaning is obviously being used.

For the early Anglo-Saxons (and indeed all pre-Christian cultures), the day and the precious light that accompanies it were nothing less than blessings. Many activities could be continued into the night, but this used up valuable resources—oil and tallow—and it was often difficult to perform any tasks well in the flickering light of a candle or an oil lamp. The Anglo-Saxons were also keenly aware of the relationship between the length of the day and seasonal changes. Longer days came with the warmer, more fertile and productive half of the year.

Anglo-Saxon society of the time was very stratified, with distinct ranks or levels of social position. It was not entirely impossible to move up this ladder a little, but the climb was very difficult. Dæg did not acknowledge this hierarchy. The blessings of dæg were and are bequeathed equally for all to enjoy (eallum bryce), regardless of wealth or social position.

As mentioned elsewhere, when the Anglo-Saxon Rune Poem was recorded on paper, words like dryhtnes and metodes were assumed to refer to the Biblical god. In an earlier time, before the Anglo-Saxons—whether by choice or by force—turned away from their gods, these words would have meant an indigenous northern European deity. From the degree of praise in this passage of the poem, we might suspect that the deity in question is Thunor, who was the most popular of the Anglo-Saxon gods, but Thunor rules over the storms that brings life-giving rain. He may bring mirth and hope (myrgþ and tóhiht), but he is hardly a god of daylight. And the light is not the gift of just any god; it is given by the “great god” (mære metodes). From this we could argue that the deity is Woden himself, the leader of the Anglo-Saxon gods. But all of this is conjecture, and ultimately it does not matter because the emphasis of the poem is on the day itself, not on the deity who releases this blessing. In my own mind, I find it simpler to use the plural, letting the day be the ambassador of “the gods,” and its light their blessing.

Do you remember the two upright strokes of the rune hagol, the rune of transformation, that represent two different states of being? The dæg rune has a similar pair of upright strokes, but these are connected by the angular, perpendicular strokes of the gyfu rune. Thus the form of dæg reveals a gift radiating out to bless distinctly different states of being, to bless the well off (éadgum) as well as those who are not so fortunate (earmum). The idea of this blessing being a gift is essential to understanding the deeper mystery of this rune. Dæg is not a payoff for work or actions. That is part of the mystery of gear. This rune is grace. It represents blessings given freely, regardless of what the recipients may have done or who they are.

In wiglung, the art of seeking portents, dæg is always a welcome rune. Its presence indicates that the querent has some divine blessing working for him or her. It is my belief that the deity bestowing this blessing varies from one querent to another and from one situation to another. If the querent has an especially close relationship with a particular deity—a god or goddess who is often known as a “patron” by contemporary Pagans—then that deity is very likely the power bestowing the blessing indicated by dæg. But it is also possible that this boon is coming from an unexpected direction. Whether or not the querent—or the wiglere who is interpreting the runes—will know the source of the blessing depends on a variety of factors, including how open and demonstrative the deity is.

In rúncræft, dæg is useful in many situations, especially those situations you do not have much control over. But even though dæg is a blessing of grace, do not expect this rune to undo your actions if you have proven yourself unworthy of the boon you seek. If you are looking for a job in a highly competitive career, combining dæg with feoh (and possibly other runes, depending on the nature of the work) might give you the edge you need to be noticed and chosen. If you are hoping for a raise even though you have given as little as humanly possible to your employer, dæg and feoh are probably not going to help. In this situation, you are trying to use rúncræft against your own wyrd, against the destiny that you have created through your actions, and that is not easy to do.

Dæg combined with beorc and wynn makes a strong good luck charm. Or use the rune by itself to draw “mirth and also hope” into your life.

In your mind’s eye, envision people happily pursuing their daily affairs. Sunlight streams down from above. For the time being, all is well with the world.

Review

1. In northern European cosmology, what two forces came together to form the universe?

2. What does the shape of the sigel rune represent?

3. Describe the difference in meaning between sigel and tir. What do these two runes have in common, and how are they different?

4. What does the Anglo-Saxon Rune Poem refer to when it speaks of a sea-stallion (brimhengest)?

5. Describe the difference in meaning between gear and dæg.