Divining with the Deities (or any of the Kindred!)

Ancient runestone from Sweden
via Creative Commons

I have been practicing divination for a long time now.  I made my own set of "clow cards" (yes, it was a tv show for little girls, and yes, in the absence of anything else occult, I totally lapped it up) at age twelve, staring at the beautiful art and assigning fairly arbitrary meanings.  It wasn't until I moved out of my mother's house at sixteen that I was able to get my hands on an actual set of tarot cards, but it became something of an obsession after that.  I've learned a lot of different methods, have participated endlessly in the assigned meanings vs. intuition debate (I fall somewhere in between), and even spent two years as an email tarot reader.

But now, I'm trying something new.  When Prairie Shadow Protogrove started up, I was usually designated the Seer during ritual since I had more experience with divination systems.  Actually contacting the Kindred through divination was a very new experience for me, and honestly it was also pretty overwhelming.  I'm not as adept at hearing Their voices or receiving inspiration than others, and I'm afraid the Omen portion of those rituals may fallen rather flat.  I also don't do a whole lot of personal divination anymore; it's difficult to find the time and proper concentration with three little ones running around.

That's something that needs to change for me.  After receiving a rather scary sign in my own home, a friend prodded me to look into it further via divination.  At first I wasn't really sure who to go to with my request - I like to use the runes nowadays, but Odhinn and I have a rocky relationship at best.  Most of my offerings these days go to the Vanic deities.  So eventually I mustered the courage and offered some honey to Freya, asking for some answers to the lingering questions the event had left.  The runes aren't Her favorite (my UPG), but She was helpful enough in answering my questions.

It's a powerful experience, communicating with a deity.  After I was told that Frey was the source of the omen I received, I made offerings to Him and asked some pointed questions - things like "why'd you have to scare me so darn bad?"  The answer I received?  "I am a God, vast and more powerful than you can conceive - that the functions of nature scare you isn't really my concern."  Now, this is the type of answer I would expect from Nerthus, and a feeling I've gotten from Her many times.  But Frey has always seemed so friendly and jovial.  In my efforts to find the answers to my questions, I'd forgotten what an amazing thing was already taking place right there on my porch.  It shook me up almost as much as the original sign had.

I'm about ready to finish up my Dedicant's Path for ADF - I've submitted the work, but have some revisions to do before I can be approved.  I'm thinking about moving forward on the Initiate's Path, a guided journey designed to deepen one's inner connection with the Kindred.  One of the classes is Divination 1, where daily draws and journaling are heavily encouraged.  I think this is something I'd like to start pursuing even now.  When communication becomes too one-sided, strange things start happening - including scary omens that show up in houses.  It's time for me to open the door.

Crafting the Runes: Tiw

Modified from original sketch by John Bauer
Public Domain

Tiw is a guiding star; 

well does it keep faith with princes;

it is ever on its course over the mists of night

and never fails.

Tiw in the Anglo-Saxon rune poem seems to obviously be describing the North Star.  Like the deity for which the rune is named, thought to preside over matters of justice, the North Star is a fair and impartial guide when finding one's bearings in the night.  Interestingly, neither of the other extant rune poems make a reference to the star, instead dwelling exclusively on the deity.  The Norwegian rune poem states that "Tyr is a one-handed God; often has the smith to blow".  The Icelandic rune poem says this: "Týr, God with one hand, and leavings of the wolf, and prince of temples".  The first lines link Týr with perhaps His most famous story, where He places His hand in the mouth of the giant wolf Fenris to trick him into being bound, and loses His hand for the deception - a story that strongly links Him with a sense of justice and fair-play.  The other ideas mentioned, smiths and "prince of temples" are more obscure, I wasn't able to puzzle out what they may be referring to.

This rune is one of only two in the Anglo-Saxon futhorc that are specifically named after a deity (the other being Ing).  The rune, and its meaning, are strongly linked to Tiw's nature as a deity of justice; it "never fails".  This rune can mean that something is certain to pass, or it can also represent the need to look at one's situation objectively, almost as a judge deciding a case.  Used in magic, the rune can call the aid of Tiw specifically, or merely the idea of fairness or keeping faith.  Like Sigel and Sunne, this rune can be used as a fine representation of Tiw on an altar or shrine.

Crafting the Runes: Sigel

From the Runic Tarot
by Caroline Smith and John Astrop

The sun is ever a joy in the hopes of seafarers

when they journey away over the fishes' bath,

until the courser of the deep bears them to land.

Sigel, the sun, "is ever a joy".  The Anglo-Saxon rune poem above talks specifically about the sun being helpful to seafarers, but we know that the sun was very important in many aspects of life for the various Germanic tribes.  The Icelandic rune poem calls the sun "shield of the clouds, and shining ray, and destroyer of ice," and the Norwegian rune poem states that "sun is the light of the world".  In addition, we know from Caesar's Commentaries, authored by Julius Caesar in the first century BC, that the Germanic tribes "rank in the number of the gods those alone whom they behold, and by whose instrumentality they are obviously benefited, namely, the sun, fire, and the moon".  So not only is the sun praised as a great benefit to humankind, but it was also beheld as a deity - which could refer to an early iteration of the Germanic Goddess Sunna (Sunne for the Anglo-Saxons).

In divination, I would see this rune as very positive, bringing with it warmth and light; and perhaps specifically good guidance or advice, as referenced in the AS poem.  In magic it could be used to promote positive outcomes, or the light that is necessary for growth.  Naturally, I also think of it as a rune representing Sunne, and is a fitting representation of Her on an altar or shrine.

Crafting the Runes: Eolh

The Eolh-sedge is mostly to be found in a marsh,

it grows in the water and makes a ghastly wound,

covering with blood every warrior who touches it.

Eolh is an Anglo-Saxon word describing a kind of sawgrass that grows in marshes all over Europe (though we have no way of knowing now exactly what species).  It has sharp, cutting edges; dangerous for anyone walking through with bare skin.  An older Germanic name, Algiz, is linguistically related to the Elk, and so the Elder Futhark rune is often associated with defense.  In his book Wyrdworking: the Path of a Saxon Sorcerer, Alaric Albertsson extends this meaning to the Anglo-Saxon elk-sedge, theorizing that the cutting nature of the elk-sedge is protection for the marsh - in contrast to Thorn, a sharp and dangerous plant that is regarded as an ill omen.

The wikipedia article on Agliz, which is actually very informative, talks about the transition from the rune's initial sound as an ending 'z' to its Anglo-Saxon use, a 'x' or 'ks' sound.  I feel the Anglo-Saxons saw the marsh as a dangerous, and yet mystical place.  To me, this rune represents the dangers and benefits of traveling out into wild places where people are not necessarily welcome.  Rather than being protective, I see this as a warning: come no farther, traveler, the dangers of the marsh lie beyond.

Crafting the Runes: Peordh

From Ralph Blum's Rune Deck

Peordh is a source of recreation

and amusement to the great,

where warriors sit blithely together

in a banqueting-hall.

Peordh is the most confusing rune in the Anglo-Saxon rune poem that I've encountered so far.  It appears to have no precise pronunciation, with many sources giving many different suggestions.  The wikipedia article on the rune cites a German book published in 2006, Das fuþark und seine einzelsprachlichen Weiterentwicklungen by A. Bammesberger and G. Waxenberger, which gives a etymological link between peordh and a Common Germanic word for pear-tree.  The article then goes on to link this to a woodwind instrument, or a game made out of the wood.  Alaric Albertsson in his book Wyrd Working: the Path of a Saxon Sorcerer, mentions and disputes a possible interpretation of a chess piece, stating that it can most likely be interpreted as related to some game of chance (and using the usual interpretation of the shape of the rune resembling a dice cup).  The rune is not mentioned in either of the other extant rune poems we have available.

Unable to find any more references or explanations for the translation, I suppose the traditional explanation of a game of chance is as good as any.  It certainly fits in with the poem - it is a game often played when people gather together, and is seen, even into our modern times, as a "source of amusement to the great".  Many will associate this rune with fate or chance; and given that I am learning these runes partly in order to practice a casting sort of divination with them, it doesn't seem entirely out of place.  But what the rune poem seems to suggest is more about camaraderie - warriors sitting together in a hall, feasting and drinking and playing games.  This reminds me more of family game nights or get togethers with friends than the mighty forces of fate and chance.  While I think either is a valid interpretation, in my own divination and magic, I think I will primarily interpret it as good times with friends and companions.

Crafting the Runes: Eoh

From the Runic Tarot
by Caroline Smith and John Astrop

The yew is a tree with rough bark,

hard and fast in the earth, supported by its roots,

a guardian of flame and a joy upon an estate.

In the old Anglo-Saxon languages, Eoh translates to 'yew' - making it the first rune I've studied to be directly named after a tree.  There are a few others in the Anglo-Saxon runic alphabet, indicating that trees are an important part of the way the tribes we now call the Anglo-Saxons viewed the world around them.  There are many Pagans who associate this rune with death and transformation; because yew trees are often found in graveyards in the British Isles.  In my research, I've found no evidence that this is a pre-Christian tradition; which doesn't mean I will automatically discount it - but the rune poem quoted above seems to paint quite a different picture of the Anglo-Saxon idea of the yew tree.  In fact, the yew tree is portrayed differently in each of the rune poems; in the Icelandic it is described as "bent bow, and brittle iron, and giant of the arrow", a clear reference to the making of bows out of the wood of the tree, not mentioned at all in the AS poem.  In the Norwegian we come a bit closer to the AS: "yew is the greenest of trees in winter; it is wont to crackle when it burns" - as this also references yew's use as a firewood.   

Considering only the AS rune poem, the yew is described as outwardly rather unremarkable, or even unpleasant.  Its bark is rough, not pleasant to feel.  Yet, the poem goes on to tell us that despite its gruff exterior, the yew tree is honored by virtue of its deep, lasting roots.  Yew trees are one of the longest-lived plants in Europe; some are possibly as old as 2,000 years (if we could reliably talk to trees, Pagan reconstruction would be so much easier)!  It is also described as being a useful firewood, which is possibly the reason that it is so desired to have a yew on one's property - though it could also be because of its long-lived, deep-rooted nature.

In divination, I think I see this rune two ways.  The first is a bit like Ben Weatherstaff from The Secret Garden - a gruff man, as old as the earth and deeply connected to the spirit of the place where he lives.  Though he is a bit rough on the outside, his connection to the land and its plants and animals ensures that he cares deeply about all who are equally deep-rooted there.  The second way is a bit like JRR Tolkien's Strider poem: "all that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost".  That is, appearances can be deceiving.  Tolkien's poem, by the way, goes on to include the line "deep roots are not reached by the frost".  The yew is ancient, and here to stay.

Crafting the Runes: Jear

From the Haindl Rune Oracle

Summer is a joy to men,
when God, the holy King of Heaven,

suffers the earth to bring forth shining fruits

for rich and poor alike.

Jear, the rune most symbolic of peace and plenty.  Though the Anglo-Saxon rune poem devotes a fourth of the lines describing it to the Christian God, the Icelandic and Norwegian rune poems give the same basic idea without describing God at all.  They all describe the idea of plenty, or having more than you need to survive.  The Icelandic poem says, "boon to men, and good summer, and thriving crops," while the Norwegian poem invokes the story of Frothi, a great king who upheld a long peace for his people (though it was later ended by his own greed).  And yet the rune itself does not translate to 'plenty'.  It instead translates as 'year'.  I think this, taken together with the notes about summer and the story of Frothi, paint an interesting picture of this rune.

Though the poems talk primarily about plenty and good fortune, and I think this is a large part of the rune's meaning - in Northern Europe, there can be no summer without first there being a winter.  This rune describes the whole year; how plenty comes and how, like in Frothi's story, plenty also goes.  It is great while it lasts, and as the Anglo-Saxon poem describes, it is helpful to rich and poor alike.  But eventually the year turns, and this peace and plenty are no longer available - there are times we must make do with what we have.

In divination, or in using runes for magic, I think it's fair to say this rune is mostly positive.  However, it's also good to be aware of the possible connotations; like the yin-yang symbol in Chinese culture, the rune Jear seems to carry the seeds of its own opposite.

Crafting the Runes: Is

From Ralph Blum's Rune Deck

Ice is very cold and immeasurably slippery;

it glistens as clear as glass and most like to gems;

it is a floor wrought by the frost, fair to look upon.

The rune Is is translated to mean 'ice'.  It is one of my favorite stanzas in the Anglo-Saxon rune poem, with such striking imagery I always imagine an ice castle or how magical icicles looked when I was younger.  Ice is almost always so very beautiful; sometimes here on the prairie it comes as a freezing rain blown about by fierce winds, which leaves the bare tree branches coated - in the morning when the sun shines, everything sparkles like rainbow fire.  Something the Anglo-Saxon poem does not address, though, is the danger of ice.

The Icelandic rune poem describes Is as "bark of rivers, and roof of the wave, and destruction of the doomed".  It's easy to see which land had more experience of ice, and of severe cold.  In Iceland, ice covered the rivers like bark on a tree, even froze over the ocean.  It was inherently dangerous, because those who were killed by ice were considered "doomed" - there was no way they could have escaped the ice, their fate.

There is also the idea, not touched upon in either rune poem, that ice is one of the building blocks of all life.  In the Norse creation myth written down by Snorri Sturlson, he two contrasting elements, ice and fire, came together: the heat of Muspell met the great ice of Niflheim, and the fire thawed a few drops of the ice.  Fire and Ice come together to make Water, which grew into the frost giant Ymir.  Ymir is later slain by Odin and His brothers, and his body is used to make the world.

Though I try to stick with Anglo-Saxon ideas over those of other branches of the Germanic peoples, in this case I think climate dictates I look farther afield.  In the middle of the United States, we don't have the rather temperate climate that England experiences.  The weather ranges from -20 to -30 degree Fahrenheit wind chills like we had this morning, to over 100 degrees in the summer.  Our cold is intense, and often it lasts for four or more months of the year.  When ice comes in December, it tends to stick around until the first big thaw in March (unless we're lucky and global warming comes up with an unseasonably warm day).  I remember growing up, my neighbors never cleaned out their gutters, and an amazing icicle would form over the course of the winter months, as the sun warmed the ice in the gutters by day just enough for it to drip and freeze it into more icicle by night - some winters it reached all the way to the ground by the time spring rolled around!  It can be so beautiful; but also very dangerous.  It makes roads difficult to navigate, walking becomes hazardous; and one particularly memorable year, when everything froze early in October, the leaves of the trees were weighted down so much that many trees lost big branches.

In divination, I tend to think of Ice in all three ways - a dangerous force, a conduit for creation, and a beautiful art piece.  Sometimes the things that hurt us are beautiful and alluring, and sometimes out of our destruction, old pieces can be picked up and a new life made.  I attended a class on bindrunes by the local Heathen group, and one thing the teacher said has stuck with me: Ice, as that single upright stave, is the basis of all the runes.  It underlies everything.

Crafting the Runes: Nyd

From the Haindl Rune Oracle

Trouble is oppressive to the heart;

yet often it proves a source of help and salvation

to the children of men,
to everyone who heeds it betimes.

'Nyd' - translated above as 'trouble' - is also often translated as 'need'.  Being in need of something can be a weight on a person's heart, especially if it is something essential like food or shelter.  In my opinion, the later part of this stanza is probably an amalgamation of Christian concept of "joy in suffering" and the more Heathen idea of "necessity is the mother of invention".  Though we may occasionally find ourselves in need, that is also when we may find a great strength - almost like the adrenaline that rushes through veins when faced with a threat, need challenges us to rise to the occasion and find a way to solve that need.  This is not to say that those who don't fulfill all of their own needs are failing or somehow lesser - this is why humans live in communities, so that we can help one another when needed and receive help in turn when we are in need - but the trying is important.  To paraphrase an ancient Greek ideal: "the Gods help those who help themselves".

This rune also refers to the concept of the Need-fire, both through its name and its shape.  The need-fire is one kindled by friction, either wood on wood or a rope on wood, and is considered most effective when all other fires near it are put out.  It is lit in times when the community is in great need, especially in farming communities where animals are often threatened by outbreaks of disease.  The flames are believed to purify the animals, and so two fires are made though which the animals can be driven.

When this rune comes up in divination, I often see it interpreted as a bad omen - but I tend to see it as an indication of something that is missing or needed in the person's life.  This can be a positive thing if the need can be identified and subsequently fulfilled, though it will often require some effort to fulfill the need.

B is for Birch

Photo by Cassi Saari.  Creative Commons license.

I have always had a closeness with birch trees.  The stark white bark of many varieties is strikingly beautiful, especially in the midwest where colors rarely vary from green or brown.  I first began to take special note of them when reading JRR Tolkien's The Silmarillion, specifically his myth of the Two Trees, one gold and one silver.  From the silver tree descended the White Tree of Gondor, and my youthful mind conjectured all birch trees must have come from that noble line.  Later, as I began learning more Germanic and Celtic lore, I noticed the birch tree figured in cultures' lettering systems.

Proto-Germanic Rune Berkanan

The birch is repeatedly associated with birth and new beginnings in both Germanic and Celtic cultures, and this is intrinsically tied to the mundane nature of the tree.  They are known as a pioneer species: when a forest fire or other natural disaster happens, the birch tree is one of the first trees to colonize the bare land.  In grazing pastures or open areas, birch seedlings are those cleared most often.  We can see this reflected in the meaning of both the Proto-Germanic rune Berkanan, as well as the Ogham letter Beith.  The pure white bark of the birch, combined with its association with fire-cleared land, explain why it is believed by many to be a purifying tree.  Its rapid colonization of bare land tells us why this tree is associated with birth and new life.  As above, so below is an ancient concept: what a thing does in the mundane world is a good representation of its function on the spiritual or magical plane.

In Lebor Ogaim, also known as the Ogham Tract, is at least as old as 1390; and it tells an account of Ogma's invention of the Ogham alphabet.  Seven Beiths inscribed on a birch tree was the very first message ever recorded using the Ogham script.

The symbolism of purity and new beginnings as embodied in the birch tree has not stayed solely in the realm of Celtic or Germanic Pagans, but has become a symbol recognized by many under the Pagan umbrella.  It has also become strongly associated with mother-type Goddesses, but there is no evidence to suggest that Goddesses such as Brigid or Frige were ever explicitly linked with the birch tree.  The theory that Berkanan's shape is a pictogram for a pair of breasts is probably also nothing but conjecture, considering that its shape was likely adopted from a Latin letter which as far as we know had no relation either to the birch tree or the concept of motherhood.  Nonetheless, it has become so ingrained in Neo-Pagan culture that it is worth acknowledging that this symbolism is helpful to many people.

As with all nature spirits, my opinion is that the best way to get a feel for its energies or to bring its spirit into your life is to go out and get to know one!  Birch trees are often used as an ornamental tree here in the midwest, and so are easily found in public parks or arboretums; I advise finding a particular one that seems most open to interaction.  I find offerings of water are often appreciated by tree spirits, but you may want to bring only a poem or song depending on where the tree is located.  If nothing else, they are fascinating trees to study, and a Pagan can rarely go wrong spending some time beneath trees!

Crafting the Runes: Haegl

From the Runic Tarot, by Caroline Smith
and John Astrop

Hail is the whitest of grain;

it is whirled from the vault of heaven

and is tossed about by gusts of wind

and then it melts into water.

The rune Haegl translates directly to 'hail'.  The theme comparing hail to grain is found in all three of the extant rune poems, and makes an interesting contrast.  Hail is a frightening weather phenomenon, destroying crops and damaging homes, and a late summer hail storm of the kind that comes once or twice a year here on the prairie would have been devastating to a culture relying on agriculture for survival.  It's important also to note that the seeming loss of the hails power - "it melts into water" - is referenced only in the Christianized version of the poem.  In the Icelandic version, no such ultimate resolution is given; instead it is described as "cold grain, and shower of sleet, and sickness of serpents."  It is clear that the Germanic peoples thought of hail as a bad thing - so why the comparison to grain, the very plant probably most often destroyed by these storms?

In my opinion, it all heralds back to the Germanic idea of ice as the beginning of creation.  Of course ice, like hail, is a destructive force.  But referencing it as a grain, a seed which falls to earth from the sky, seems to say that this destruction also contains the potential for new growth; an ice which melts into nourishing water.

In divination, I absolutely read Haegl as a negative rune.  But it's not the end of the world - after the destruction, the hail melts, and its tiny seeds can grow into something new and perhaps better than what came before.

Crafting the Runes: Wynn

Bliss he enjoys who knows
not suffering, sorrow, nor anxiety,
and has prosperity and happiness
and a good enough house.

This section of the Anglo-Saxon rune poem speaks of the rune Wynn, which translates directly to "joy".  The Saxons apparently had a very wide definition of joy, one which is often overlooked today in our materialist-driven culture.  If you aren't suffering, in sorrow or anxious, the poem says, you are enjoying bliss.  If you have prosperity, happiness, and a "good-enough" house - you are enjoying bliss.  Alaric Albertsson talks about this rune in his book Wyrdworking: The Path of a Saxon Sorcerer.  In it, he translates the Anglo-Saxon word blæd as "prosperity" - which the translation above also does - but makes note that "blæd does not necessarily mean 'endless wealth;' it means 'having enough'."

Joy, to the Anglo-Saxons, was having the resources and tools you needed to build a good life.  This is a lesson many, including myself, desperately need today.  Having just enough of what you need is wealth and bliss, perhaps greater than that of the very rich.  I am in a position myself where I have a lovely home, enough food to put on the table each night, and that's about it - not a lot of room for extras.  Wynn teaches me that there is great happiness to be found in that.

Crafting the Runes: Giefu

Generosity brings credit and honor, which support one's dignity;
it furnishes help and subsistence
to all broken men who are devoid of aught else.

Here we have another rune that, while attested in the Anglo-Saxon rune poem quoted above, does not have a counterpart in the Icelandic or Norwegian rune poems.  Giefu directly translates to 'gift' in Anglo-Frisian (another Germanic language once in use in the British Isles).  Despite a very Christianized concept of generosity and gift-giving represented in the rune poem, the original Heathen idea of a gift was rooted in the concept of Hospitality.

In ancient Germanic societies such as the pre-conversion Angles, Saxons, and Jutes, hospitality was one of the most important values.  It provides for the care of travelers or those who have fallen on hard times, it helps to establish community relationships, and even provides a basis for interaction with the divine.  If any of you have read A Game of Thrones, GRRM's concept of guest right is a very common one throughout Indo-European cultures, and Germanic culture specifically places a heavy emphasis on it.

In the same way, "a gift for a gift" provided the basic religious outline of Indo-European, and later Germanic, ritual to the divine.  Offerings, promises, and prayers were often given to the gods or land spirits in thanks for their goodwill and help; either before or after the help took place.  The idea was that giving to a spirit put them in a place where they were obligated to give a gift back - not in a manipulative or skeezy way, but in a completely culturally appropriate and widely-understood fashion.

To me, this is also what the rune Giefu represents.  It is a rune of that which is given, and the gift that must be given in return.

Crafting the Runes: Cen

The torch is known to every living man
by its pale, bright flame;
it always burns where princes sit within.

Today we have another rune with some linguistic confusion and a variety of interpretations.  The Norwegian and Icelandic rune poems named this rune Ulcer, and consequently their poems speak of a dangerous rune.  The Anglo-Saxons, on the other hand, called this rune Torch.

Though we don't have many extant Anglo-Saxon sources, we do know quite a bit about the mythology of their cousins, the Norse.  In Norse mythology, fire holds an exalted place - Muspelheim, the first of all worlds, has flames so hot that there are no visitors.  The place where the fires of Muspelheim came in contact with the ice of Niflheim was called Ginnungagap, and it was here that life came to be.  (Sturluson, The Prose Edda)

Fire also heralds the end of the world, also called Ragnarök; the Gods of Asgard are fated to fight the fire giants of Muspelheim (Sturluson).  It can be both destructive and creative.  The name Torch suggests to me the positive aspects of fire: it is fire contained, controlled by people, and used for the people's benefit.  "The torch is known to every living man," because who in those times could make do without a bit of light to see by or fire to cook on (or, in our times, who in this country could do without electricity?).

One thing this rune does not signify is knowledge!  This is based on a linguistic misunderstanding, where 'cen' or 'torch' is mistaken for 'ken' or 'knowing'.  Instead, we must look to the Germanic understanding of fire as participant in both creation and destruction to understand the torch - creation harnessed to give light and life to humanity.

Crafting the Runes: Rad

Riding seems easy to every warrior while he is indoors
and very courageous to him who traverses the high-roads
on the back of a stout horse.

The above stanza taken from the Anglo-Saxon Rune Poem is one of the more interesting I've read since embarking on this study.  This rune is usually characterized as one of the simpler ones: the translation is "to ride", which often sees it telling of travel, journeys and transportation.  But reading through the various rune poems leads me to believe that this simplicity is rather deceptive.  Consider the Norwegian Rune Poem, which says "Riding is said to be the worst thing for horses", or the Icelandic Rune Poem, which specifically mentions that although "Riding // joy of the horsemen // and speedy journey" it is also "and toil of the steed".

All of these poems have something in common: dual perspectives.  In the Anglo-Saxon, the two perspectives are those of someone indoors, not having to actually face the danger of riding a horse; and that of someone on the back of a horse, taking dangerous roads with a potentially less-than-reliable animal.  The other poems reveal exactly why the horse may be slightly dangerous - while riding can be great for those doing the riding, the animal that has to carry that person is working very hard.

So while this rune is most obviously about travel, riding, and our modes of transportation; I think it's worth considering in a reading that this rune may be trying to show another side to the story.  Consider an outside perspective, perhaps one that is normally overlooked or brushed aside.

Crafting the Runes: Os

The mouth is the source of all language,

a pillar of wisdom and a comfort to wise men,

a blessing and a joy to every knight.

The Anglo-Saxon rune Os (according to a Wikipedia article which steadfastly refuses to cite its sources!) is one of three Anglo-Saxon runes that split from the Ansuz rune of the Elder Futhark.  Because of the development of vowels in England at the time, the 'a' rune was split into an 'o' sound, an 'æ' sound and an 'a' sound.  If I'm remembering my diction class correctly (which is debatable), the 'o' sounds like the o in 'moat', 'æ' sounds like 'cat' and, and 'a' sounds like the a in 'caller'.  Os is our 'o' rune.

There is also a bit of controversy over the translation of the name of this rune.  I discovered, by googling some of the information in the before-mentioned Wikipedia article with no sources, a lovely volume titled The Anglo-Saxon Minor Poems, Volume 6 by Elliot Van Kirk Dobbie.  One of the poems he analyzes is the Anglo-Saxon rune poem, and his commentary has a great deal of information on the runes, as well as what seems like a wealth of sources - which I am, unfortunately, unable to see with the brief Google Books preview; I'll be ordering it through inter-library loan and will hopefully be able to update with more direct sources soon.

 "The name os, given for this rune by Hickes, is perhaps the Anglo-Saxon word os, "(heathen) god"."  He goes on to say: "In the Iclandic rune poem the rune (in a somewhat different form) stands for óss (or áss), "god," but in the Norwegian rune poem it stands for óss, "river-mouth, estuary."  An alternative translation of the Anglo-Saxon rune name, by Kemble, Archaeologia XXVIII, 340, favored by Dickens and accepted by Keller, Anglia LX, 142, takes os as the Latin noun, "mouth."  This meaning fits better with the [stanza of the Anglo-Saxon rune poem], "source of every language," but no other foreign words are found in the poem as the names of runes."

Given this evidence, I think it is reasonable to discount the Latin translation 'mouth' as a Heathen interpretation of the runes.  I believe that Van Kirk Dobbie is quite correct in his supposition that the name for this rune translates to 'god', especially since the Icelandic rune poem, as noted in the quote, quite specifically mentions it (God // aged Gautr // and prince of Ásgarðr // and lord of Valhalla).  Given the connections we know Woden has to the runes, language, and poetry; I don't think it's outside the realm of possibility that the line "the source of all language" may be referring to Him.  Again considering the Icelandic rune poem, who would be the "lord of Valhalla" but Odin?

Now that we've analyzed the possible translations of Os, it's time to discuss the meaning of this rune and its possible implications in divination.  My take on this is obviously going to be informed by my association of the Anglo-Saxon rune poem's stanza with Woden, so bear with my potentially over-reaching conclusions!  I see this as Woden's rune, much like Tyr is associated with Tiw.  We don't know much about how the Anglo-Saxons viewed Woden, and how those views may have been similar or different to the view of the Norse; and this rune poem was written a few generations off from un-Christianized Heathens.  Nevertheless, I feel this rune's strongest associations are with Woden as a god of language and poetry; a poet's rune.  To me, it would represent creativity, and the struggle that must so often be engaged in to let the creation come to light.

Crafting the Runes: Thorn

The thorn is exceedingly sharp,
an evil thing for any knight to touch,
uncommonly severe on all who sit among them.

Well, my rune crafting and studies are not turning out to be as 'every day' as I intended.  Still, I am plugging away on them, and today I write about the rune Thorn (or Thurisaz, or any number of Germanic variations; I tend to use the Old English names).  As you might expect, the translation is rather simple - Thorn.  The poem above comes from a stanza of the Anglo-Saxon rune poem, which warns of the dangers of this rune.  The third rune in the sequence of the Norwegian and Icelandic rune poems is Giant; it has been speculated (though I cannot find a source for the original speculator) that the Thorn was a metaphor for a Giant.  The Norwegian poem states: "Giant causes anguish to women // misfortune makes few men cheerful", while the Icelandic poem elaborates further: "torturer of women // and cliff-dweller // and husband of a giantess".

I am currently reading Kveldulf Gundarsson's Elves, Wights and Trolls; which is a fantastic study on various supernatural beings from a Germanic perspective; and he noted the definition of giant as "husband of a giantess".  He speculates, with more supporting evidence that I can't recall at the moment (just go read the book, it's fantastic!) that giantesses were viewed as more wild, more primal than even their male counterparts.  This gives rise to an interesting idea: if Thorn is a metaphor for a male giant specifically, than it represents a dangerous warning that may yet lead to an even greater, more chaotic danger.

Altogether, it is fairly obvious that this is a rune of danger, and a bad omen.  Not a rune I'd like to pull very often!

Crafting the Runes: Ur

The aurochs is proud and has great horns;

it is a very savage beast and fights with its horns;

a great ranger of the moors, it is a creature of mettle.

For the rune Ur, I have again quoted the Anglo-Saxon rune poem, a translation of which can be found here.  The Norwegian and Icelandic poems are debatable, but I personally do not associate the second stanzas of those poems with this Rune.

I have always seen this rune, in a Elder Futhark context, represented as Strength.  Which is fair - the aurochs is incredibly large and strong.  But that's not exactly what the poem is saying.  It talks about the pride of the aurochs, it's bravery.  Now of course, the aurochs can be brave and prideful because of its great strength; it has the power to back up its claims.  In fact, it is a savage beast, and will prove its power beyond a shadow of a doubt with sufficient provocation (and reading about aurochs, it seems like 'sufficient provocation' could have been pretty minimal!).  This rune makes claims of strength because it has that strength, and will not hesitate to show it off when confronted.

Crafting the Runes: Fehu

Wealth is a comfort to all men;

yet every man must bestow it freely

if he wish to gain honor in the sight of the Lord.

The quote above is from the first few lines of the Anglo-Saxon Rune poem, a poem composed around the 8th century, after the Germanic religions of the Angles, Saxons, Jutes and others had been supplanted by Christianity - hence the occasional Christian references.  It was first written in Old English, but there's a modern English translation available here.  There are also Norwegian and Icelandic Rune poems, composed later and yet more Pagan in nature.

At first glance, I assumed the slightly negative slant on wealth in the quote above was a Christian overlay; however the Icelandic and Norwegian poems are much more negative in nature, saying "wealth is a source of discord among kinsmen; the wolf lives in the forest," and "source of discord among kinsmen // and fire of the sea // and path of the serpent."  Clearly the Germanic peoples realized the power of greed; it is this that causes the fights even among families.  The Anglo-Saxon Rune poem offers us a solution, however: do not hold on too tightly to your wealth, but bestow it freely, and greed will not haunt your house.

It's interesting and sheds a great deal of light on early Germanic culture that cattle (the literal meaning of 'fehu') is synonymous with wealth.  The more cattle you were able to sustain, the more milk you would have in the early spring, and more meat in the fall and through the winter.  Clearly, however, having too much wealth - or just being rich for the sake of being rich - was very undesirable.

Crafting the Runes: A Beginning

Since I began my work with an Anglo-Saxon hearth, I've been wanting to acquire a set of Anglo-Saxon runes to work with.  I've looked around (a bit half-heartedly, I must admit) and nothing struck my fancy.  Then about a week ago, I was getting ready to mow my lawn.  It's a multi-step process for me, the procrastinator that I am, and the first is to clear up all the tree branches lying in the grass that have been knocked loose by these crazy prairie winds.  This particular day, I found a nice branch, about three feet long, that was almost exactly the same thickness all along its length.  "How perfect that would be for making runes," I thought as I threw it on the stick pile.  I spent the next few days thinking about that branch - I couldn't get it out of my head.  It really was perfect for this project.  So I went outside and rescued it, and now am beginning my adventures in rune-crafting!

First, I performed a fairly simple ritual for Woden, asking Him to bless the branch I was going to work on.  Now, when I say "fairly simple", I mean very simple.  It was very impromptu as well, but I'll try to recreate it as a bit of a guide.

"Woden, you who drank the mead of poetry, and hung from the Tree for nine nights and nine days, and who drank from the Well of Mimir.  Mighty Woden who sees all Runecraft, bless this branch from which my runes are made.  I offer you this gift (libation of mead) so that I may see with wisdom, speak with wisdom, live with wisdom."

After the ritual, I sawed off some circles for the first Aett and sanded them down until they were smooth.  With all the bark gone, they are a bit smaller than I anticipated, but I think my already over-laden altar will be happier for it.  I plan to make one rune each day, spending the day meditating on its meaning, and hopefully doing a summarizing blog post at the end of each day.  (And hopefully also helping me out with the meditation requirement for the Dedicant's Path - I have a much easier time meditating when I have something to think about!)

The fantastic thing about the Anglo-Saxon runes is that there is a fully intact Rune poem that describes what the runes meant to the people of the land.  Being post-Christian, there's definitely some questionable stuff in there, but it's nothing that can't be figured out with some good old UPG!  I'll be quoting the relevant portion each day as I continue to study the runes.  Hopefully this will be a helpful resource for future students to come!