Hardship, Growth, and the Gods

Recent conversations with a young relative facing difficult times prompted a conversation that I think bears repeating here.

Heathens have a different relationship with our gods than the people of the major religions do, and as a consequence,  we also pray in a different way. We don’t tend to ask to be taken care of, or protected. We might ask for help, we might ask for a specific boon to be granted, but we do not in general look to our gods to take care of us.

To illustrate my point, let me retell the popular “Footprints In the Sand” story from an Odinic perspective.

One night I dreamed a dream.
As I was walking along the beach with Odin.
Across the dark sky flashed scenes from my life.
For each scene, I noticed two sets of footprints in the sand,
One belonging to me and one to Odin.

After the last scene of my life flashed before me,
I looked back at the footprints in the sand.
I noticed that at many times along the path of my life,
especially at the very lowest and saddest times,
there was only one set of footprints.

This really troubled me, so I asked Odin about it.
“Odin, you said once I decided to follow you,
You’d walk with me all the way.
But I noticed that during the saddest and most troublesome times of my life,
there was only one set of footprints.
I don’t understand why, when I needed You the most, You would leave me.”

He yelled, “Of course I left you, you @^%#$ idiot! How the hel will you ever learn anything or become strong if I go around carrying you? Use your head!”

The heathen way is to develop the self, and to try to become a better person, in all the different ways we heathens define that. We heathens do not wonder why there is evil, hardship, and bad luck. We do not expect that our gods will protect us from these things. Instead, we try to use these things to learn and grow.

Piety Possum Says: “F@#$% You!”

I’ve been hearing a lot of bull lately from the Righteous Radical crowd about how any display of piety or call for religious standards is some form of elitism, an example of privilege that must be eradicated. They have taken to calling anyone who believes that they should put the gods first, or have religious standards, the “Piety Posse.”
I try to put the gods first in my life. I believe that we need to have religious standards. I think that anyone who doesn’t believe in religious standards, who does not think the gods are important, is not religious. They are just playing games. They are using our gods, and our traditions, to further their own petty, mundane ends, to pursue their own political goals.
Well, I am declaring my membership in the Piety Posse. We need to have standards. The gods deserve a place of respect and honor. This is our standard:

pietyposse2

The Dawkins Delusion

One of my pet peeves is the pseudo-intellectual BS put out by Dawkins and his uber-atheist crowd of New Skeptics. The cheap debating tricks and bad logic they pass off as scientific work has done a lot of damage to the advancement of human understanding. Now, I have no problem with intellectually honest agnostics and atheists, but Dawkins’ crowd are not intellectually honest. They use all of the same sleazy tricks and are guilty of the same poor reasoning as the people they are constantly complaining about.

This has had the effect of making a lot of heathens and other polytheists make one of two mistakes: either try to “prove” their religious and spiritual beliefs scientifically, or to reject science and rational thought as being somehow opposed to and inferior to religious and spiritual thought. Both approaches are foolish. Neither are in keeping with the way the ancient heathens and other polytheists looked at matters.

I have written an article on the subject that has been published in the Walking the Worlds journal. It is here, if anyone wants to check it out, and the many other fine articles on philosophy and polytheism it contains.

Putting the Gods First

One of the more mature and clear thinking polytheists has just posted an important reply to the most recent round of BS from some of the Righteous Radical Social Justice Warrior crowd. It describes the concerns and lives of those who are devoted to the gods first and foremost, and rejects the pernicious foolishness that says that all things, including religion, are primarily political.

Hierarchy as a Religious Concept

Today, it is time to talk about an important, yet increasingly overlooked part of heathen religious philosophy: hierarchies. Ah, I can hear the outraged howls and lunatic rants of the Righteous Radical crowd already. You know who I mean. The crowd that believes that all hierarchies and ranks are inherently evil. The crowd that spends all of its time online ranting about how everyone except for them are fascists who need to be forced to think and behave Correctly. The crowd that starts screaming “Help! Help! I’m being oppressed!” every time anybody expresses an opinion that contradicts one of their own. The crowd that has to spend all of its time foaming at the mouth in cyberspace because it can never get anything real done. Because when they get together, every least detail of every proposal has to be debated by everybody. Because everybody’s voice has to be heard about everything. Because only the person who is holding the Talking Feather at the moment can talk, and there are a lot of people waiting for their turn with the Talking Feather.

When everybody gets to be Captain, nobody’s a Private. Trouble is, Privates are the ones who get the actual work done, and part of the reason why they can get the work done is that only one person is giving them orders. Instead of, you know, an unruly mob of puffed up egos all trying to give orders to each other. The reason that all human societies create hierarchies is that it is stupidly, fatally inefficient to reinvent the wheel for every single problem you face. Experience is required to solve any significant problem, to perform any important task. Not everybody has the right kinds of experience to solve every kind of problem, and the totality of human knowledge is so vast that no one person can understand all of it. So humans develop specialists. Some gain the experience to govern societies, others gain the experience needed to master a science, others learn how to educate children, and so forth. This way, each job can be done well, and there is no need to waste the enormous amount of resources needed to educate everybody about every single thing.

Look at it this way: when the leopards start dropping out of the trees, which group of people do you think is going to survive? The one where one strong, experienced leader instantly shouts out orders for defense, which are instantly obeyed because everybody knows their roles? Or the one where everyone sits down and pulls out the Talking Feather to determine whose vision of a defense strategy should be used?

Odin is the heathen embodiment of the understanding of the need for hierarchies. He is the chief of the gods, the lord of Valhalla. He is the leader of the einherjar and the valkyries. In many ways, Odin is the god of hierarchy. His people tend to not only believe in hierarchies, but to see the spiritual world expressed in a wide array of hierarchies.

Odin is not only a god of leaders, societies, and hierarchies, though, he is also a god of individuals. He is the god of the young warrior trying to work his way up the military or political hierarchy of his people. He is the god of the scholar who seeks to learn and grow enough to work his way up the academic hierarchy. He is the god of the wargs and loners who reject hierarchies and choose to live outside of them. This seems like a contradiction, but in fact it embodies a profound understanding of human nature and the way in which human societies function.

Human societies function because of dynamic tension. A society run by conservatives would be a nightmare. So would a society run by liberals, though in a different way. A society where both conservatives and liberals hold some power, and pull society first one way and then the other? That manages to be almost livable on frequent occasions.

A society which is too rigidly hierarchical tends toward the fascistic, the bureaucratic, the inefficient, the evil. A society which tends completely toward the individual at the expense of hierarchies tends towards the chaotic, the savage, the divided, the unjust, and the inefficient. What is needed is a society that has hierarchies that are counterbalanced by strong individuals, some of whom work within the system and some of whom live outside of it or even fight against it. THIS is a healthy society. The individualism in it restrains the hierarchies from excess, and the hierarchies tame individual excesses.

This is why Odin is god of hierarchy and of individualism both. He represents the dynamic tension that a healthy society needs to survive and even thrive.

Two Battles

I used to be an amateur mixed martial artist. For ten years, I took part in an open-hand nearly-no-holds-barred tournament against a wide variety of fighting styles, in a setup much like the UFC was back in the days of Royce Gracie. I sometimes also fought in a collar-and-elbow wrestling tournament, and was also a member of the Broadsword League, dueling dozens of opponents (with wooden swords). I learned a lot from these experiences. One of the most important things that I learned was the fact that every fighter fights two battles for each fight. There’s the fight itself, of course, but there’s also the fight that happens before you step into the ring.

Every fighter who’s not an idiot or a psychopath knows what I am talking about. At some point during the lead up to the fight, whether it is mere minutes or days ahead, fear sets in. You know how much pain you are facing. You know that, even in a largely safe sport, you are still risking your life. You know that, even if you win, you are going to end up battered, bleeding, and exhausted in a way that few people could even imagine. You get assailed by doubts about your skills, about your strength. You can’t shake the thought that your past victories were flukes, due to luck, and that this time you’re going to get stomped. You worry that your opponent is tougher, stronger, and more skilled than you are. These fears can become powerful. It can take all of your nerve and willpower to take the walk and step into the ring. Those minutes before the referee calls “FIGHT!” can be amongst the most nerve-wracking you have ever experienced.

During the fight itself, of course, you are usually much too busy to bother with such matters. But I’ll tell you this for free: fighting that first battle builds character, and then some. It builds willpower. It helped me develop the willpower to quit smoking. It has helped me become strong enough to do absolutely anything I put my mind to. It has helped me to keep going at any task long after everyone else has quit or collapsed.

This is one of Odin’s most important lessons. Even in this relatively peaceful modern age, even ordinary people who have never seen a battlefield and who will never see one can still benefit greatly from what the god of battle has to teach. I recommend that everyone have at least one good fight in their lives, something that can serve as an initiation experience, or a coming-of-age experience. Something scheduled for at least a month away, to give you plenty of time to face that first battle. You may get hurt, but the lessons you take away from the experience will aid and enrich your life for the rest of it.

Hail Odin.