Why Aesic Witchcraft?
Why not just call myself Asatru, you might ask. After all, I belong to Odin, and Asatru means “true to the Aesir”—doesn’t it?
Well, yes and no. That is the popular conception of what the Icelandic word means, although technically and literally it means “faith in the Gods”—with said Gods assumed to encompass the Aesir and the Vanir, but to go no further than that. I have no problem at all with being true to the Aesir—or with having faith in the Gods, for that matter. But as an Odin’s woman, I am well aware that words have multi-layered meanings, and even more than that, they have power—the power to define, to include and exclude, to suggest and evoke. Words go a long way towards shaping the reality we live; they are the biggest magical tool in my toolkit, and I try not to use them incorrectly or inappropriately. The label “Asatru”—at least as it’s used by most American Asatruar--carries more connotations and layers of understood meaning than just “faith in the Gods.” In my geographical area (the northeastern US), “Asatru” connotes a particular brand of Heathenry: fiercely independent, ruggedly individualistic, focused mostly on Scandinavian traditions and practices (as opposed to Anglo-Saxon or continental Germanic), and devoted to the study of Heathen lore (i.e. the surviving historical texts—a great many of them Icelandic—that form the underpinnings of the Heathen religion) to the point of being able to conduct exquisitely detailed discussions equivalent to the medieval debates about how many angels can dance on the head of a pin. Now, I value the study of primary and secondary (and, for that matter, tertiary) historical source materials, but not as highly as I value and trust my own insights and experiences and what my Gods tell me. As a mystic and visionary, my practice is more reconstruction-inspired than purely reconstructionist—so there’s the first stumbling block in calling myself Asatru, right there; given the connotations attached to the word, my use of it could only be misleading. Also, I am more pan-Germanic than strictly Scandinavian in my practice, not limiting myself to any particular Germanic culture or time period but borrowing from all of them as I am led to by Odin and as they enrich my path.
So, “Asatru” is right out. What about just plain old Heathen?
I’ve considered this long and hard. When Odin first reappeared in my life back in 2002 and I renewed my vows to Him, I assumed Heathenry would be a natural fit for me. I sought out local Heathens and Asatruar, joined a large Heathen organization and pursued (and achieved) clergy status within it, and tried to help build a local Heathen community in my area. Meanwhile, I turned an at least partially deaf ear to Odin’s warnings that I would never truly belong within the Heathenry community, that it was a place for me to learn and then move on from, and that I was not meant to serve Him as the mainstream Heathen Gythia to the Masses I so badly wanted to be, but as the Hedgewitch in the hut at the edge of the woods, the near-solitary, reclusive mystic who supports the work of other weirdos like herself. Predictably, all my attempts at community-building fell flat, and my efforts to “fit in” with the mainstream by glossing over the crucial differences in my beliefs and practices only served to make me feel like a fraud. Finally, after years of struggling to fit my very oddly shaped spirituality into a conventionally Heathen-shaped package, I gave up, resigned my clergy status, and accepted that mainstream Heathenry just isn’t where I belong.
Even so, I still consider myself Heathen, but only marginally, in the sense that I worship (mostly) the same Gods and adhere to the same cosmological model. There’s a semi-joke in mainstream Heathen circles that Heathenry has only two rules: 1) You ain’t the boss of me, and 2) You’re doing it wrong. Simplistic as that may sound, it’s largely true and also (intentionally) self-contradictory. Most Heathens are notoriously independent-minded, and at the same time there’s a very real tendency for certain individuals or groups to try to turn Heathenry into an orthodoxy in which they get to define what a "legitimate" practice should consist of for everyone else. There’s a good bit of variance in their opinions on this, of course, but one thing that is definitely not part of a legitimate practice in the eyes of most mainstream Heathens is claiming to be married to a God. The Gods are seen as our Elder Kin (often, literal ancestors), interested in our well-being but only in a cosmic, detached and somewhat impersonal way. For more personal attention, we are advised to turn to our more immediate ancestors and the landwights as the Heathens of old did. Yet there are several problems with this idea: 1) the Icelandic sagas offer numerous examples of Heathens who were considered the “special friends”—and in at least one case, the priestess-wife—of various Gods, and 2) what about those of us who have no real relationship with our ancestors, and/or who live in urban areas where the landwights are fewer and further between, and/or not necessarily welcoming us with open arms? Also, 3) what about those of us whom the Gods actively pursue? Nonsense, many mainstream Heathens would say; the Gods are never so interested in any single individual. One person on a Heathen elist informed me, early on in my Heathen career, that the very male, very possessive and amorous Presence who was so concerned about my health and personal habits was not Odin, but my Dis! A year or two later, another person on a different list opined that Odin was much more interested in George Bush (due to his power and influence on a global scale) than He could ever be in Little Ole Me. To believe otherwise, to fancy myself the object of the attention of the highest God—and worse, to have the audacity to claim to be His wife—was simply a sign of delusion or a way of looking for attention. (Never mind that the only sort of mainstream community attention I’ve ever received for it has been overwhelmingly negative—not exactly incentive to keep saying it if I didn’t at least believe it to be true.)
In this same vein, the consensus view in mainstream Heathenry is that while you’re allowed to have your own personal patron or patroness among the Gods (whom many Asatruar refer to as one’s fulltrui, or “fully trusted friend”), putting as much emphasis on one of the Gods as I put on Odin, to the near-exclusion of (most) Others, is not acceptable. During my clergy training, I was urged to “branch out” from Odin in order to be better prepared to serve whatever congregation might come to me as a priestess. And as if being married to Odin weren’t damning enough, I am one of those people who acknowledges three tribes/races of Deities within the Northern pantheon—Aesir, Vanir, and Jotnar—and worse, I have formally accepted Gunnlod (a Jotun, and not even acknowledged as an actual wife of Odin in most circles) as my personal patroness, and promised not to go where She and Her kin are not welcome. Obviously, in a community where most Jotnar are considered the Enemy to be faced down at Ragnarok (read: Armageddon), this presents more than a bit of a problem.
I should pause here to stress that that nothing in this essay is meant to bash Asatruar or any other segment of Heathenry—except, of course, for the outright racist and homophobic segments of it that use the religion as a smokescreen for their political agendas and thus fully deserve to be bashed. I have Heathen friends I would very much like to stay friends with, and nothing here is meant as a negative reflection on either their ways or my own; it simply is what it is. Honestly, I expect most mainstream Heathens and Asatruar worth their salt to be relieved that I no longer aspire to be one of them; there was always a whiff of, “she’s a nut, but she’s our nut” towards me on the parts of even the most tolerant among them. Even though I continue to (marginally) call myself Heathen, it’s clear that I’m a Heathen heretic at best by most standards—at least, if you accept that anyone has the authority to tell anyone else that they are doing Heathenry "wrong." I suppose I could fight for my right to use the Heathen label and struggle against those who strive to make it an ever-more exclusive and restrictive term—but why bother, really? I have no interest at all in debating whether or not my practices measure up to anyone else's yardstick for what constitutes "legitimate" Heathenry. As someone who works full time and lives with fibromyalgia while struggling to maintain a full mystical/spirit work practice as well, I can find better uses for my rather limited time and energy.
And so, rather than adopt a term coined by someone else (such as Northern Tradition Pagan or NT Shaman) to describe my path, I have decided to call myself an Aesic Witch. I belong to Odin, Who I serve as a God-spouse, Door, and Frithweaver between the three races of Gods, my primary path is that of a mystic, with my devotional activities focused on the Aesir and Their mysteries, I follow the Wheel of the Year rather than a Heathen calendar (most of the customs are exactly the same anyway), I observe a lunar ritual schedule, and the bulk of my visible, tangible spirit work consists of writing, the making of charged or “whammied” ritual items and devotional jewelry for myself and others, rune reading and other forms of divination, some work with plants and herbs, and oracular seidhr. I am definitely a Witch, not an Asatruar.
Still, exactly what do I mean by “Aesic Witch”? In all honesty, the term was inspired by my friend Sigrun Hildiwulf Freyskona’s coining of the “Vanic Witch” label for her own practices. The two paths are not actually that dissimilar; both are forms of Hedgewitchery—a mystical path, that of the “witch in the forest” rather than the “priestess in the temple,” that can exist in the context of community but doesn’t depend on community support—as the role of a traditional Gythia or shaman does—for its very existence. The community seeks out the Hedgewitch when it has need of her services, and in the meantime, she dwells quietly with her Gods and spirits. She (or sometimes he) is always to be found on the outskirts, rather than in the thick of things. She is by definition an outsider, yet often has a very important role to play for those who remember than she and her talents are still there to call upon.
Yet there are some differences between the two paths as well.
The consensus among most Heathen/Northern Tradition mystics and spirit workers is that each of the three tribes of the Gods (Aesir, Vanir, and Jotnar) was predominant during a corresponding period of human history and development here in Midgard. The Jotnar dominated during the shamanic hunter-gatherer culture of the Stone Age, the Vanir when humanity first turned its hand towards agriculture and needed Deities who could intercede with the often-harsh forces of nature on their behalf, and the Aesir when societies became stable and prosperous enough to support the keeping of livestock (often assumed to accompany the arrival of the Indo-Europeans in Northern Europe). The Aesir are widely regarded as the Gods of culture and society, social contracts, the arts, law, and warfare. Yet beyond this, They are the Gods of ascension, of reuniting with one’s highest and best self, of striving for one’s utmost potential. The names of Odin and His two brothers reflect this: Odin (Master of Frenzy/Inspiration), Villi (True Will), and Ve (Holiness/Wholeness).
The word Aesir is cognate to a number of similar words in Indo-European languages and basically means “Gods” but is also related to words meaning “mountain” or “pillar.” A conclusion can be made, then, that the Aesir were thought of in a metaphorical sense as the pillars supporting the heavens, the link between us humans and our highest and holiest aspirations. The Way of the Aesir is not merely about forming communities, preserving honor, and upholding social contracts—although it can be focused on that, for the mainstream Heathen worshipper. For the mystic, however, it is about reclaiming one’s own inspiration and creative potential, True Will, and uniting with the many parts of Self/Soul to become Whole/Holy. Each of the Aesir exemplifies this quest in His or Her own way: Odin explores the mysteries of Kingship and also those of the Shaman and Wanderer who brings back knowledge and power for His tribe (which is not the contradiction it seems to be, but is actually part of His role as King); Thor is the quintessential Protector, Loki the Trickster whose convoluted plots always end up benefiting His clan (even when His intentions are otherwise), Tyr the Proponent of Justice and Defender of what is right. My own patroness, Gunnlod, whose place among the Aesir would be disputed by many, exemplifies the Path of the Heart, of sacrifice for the sake of love, and in Her alter-ego as Saga is both the Seeress, and Keeper of the secrets of the past. I could go on and on, and will in my forthcoming book, but I’m sure you get the idea even if you don’t completely agree with these examples.
As the path of aspiration and the quest for union with the Higher Self (similar to the ceremonial magician’s quest for the “knowledge and conversation of the Holy Guardian Angel”), the Way of the Aesir is a natural fit for the mystic, especially for one so focused on writing and the arts (which are, in turn, natural tools for a mystic) as I am. If the Aesir are the Pillars of Heaven, I am a Door helping Them to more easily access this world, and doing what I can to bring Asgard into closer alignment with Midgard so that Their light can help others achieve Wholeness and reunion with their own Higher Selves. This is the most important Work I do for Them, for other people, and for myself. My written works, the things I make to share with others, my oracular work, my Frithweaving between the Divine races, and even this website all serve this goal of achieving Wholeness.
Quite ironic, isn’t it? The popular conception of my God-husband is that of a warmonger and stirrer of strife, and yet as an Odin’s woman my ultimate goal and quest is to achieve—peace.
- Gunnlod-Hjarta
(c) 2008
wodandis@gmail.com