I am a Norse polytheist who is from the US. Although sometimes I don't like it, I know that I'm a product of this 'new' world, colonial culture. As such, I feel like an outsider in my religion because I do not view Scandinavia as some kind of spiritual homeland and see the gods most strongly in America. How would you approach this feeling of alienation?
First things first anon, I'm going to get a little sweary here - not at you though:The idea of Scandinavia as some Holy Land in Asatru/Heathenry is bollocks. It is, quite frankly, a steaming pile of bullshit imported from some remnants of a Christian millenialist second-coming theology.I mean no offense to my Scandinavian followers who are lovely people, or to any of you American folks by saying this. It's one thing to visit the lands where Heathenry originated to soak up the landscapes spoken of in the Eddas, to visit, say, the actual places where the sagas and poems are set. But to view them as any more holy than the lands which we inhabit now? Utter rubbish. Which isn't to say that we can't make journeys to where our literal ancestors came from, to learn about ourselves, but to lend those lands some kind of mystic importance is, well, a bit odd to me. I get that it arises from a desire to connect, to feel rooted, particularly in a 'colonial' culture, I really do.Here's the thing though - though I would dearly love to visit Iceland one day, I don't need to. I don't need to because I'm lucky to live in Britain, in the midst of the Danelaw. People who honoured my gods walked the same paths I walked, breathed the same water, felt the same earth beneath their feet. Round here, there's Norse placenames everywhere. Less than eight miles away from me, they discovered the Silverdale Hoard in 2011.
I'm not pointing this out to lord my "my land is more Heathen than yours" status, but to illustrate a point. See, the Norse folk came here, and yes they raided, but they also settled. They intermixed with the local populace - they themselves were 'colonial'! Those Norse placenames I mentioned? They probably had Anglo-Saxon and British names before the colonists came, but the Norse ones have stuck, some thousand years later.
Those colonists named places for their gods, for words and concepts in their own language. They folded this new land into their worldview. To be sure, some of the Deep Cultural similarities between Norse and Anglo Saxon cultures would have helped, but the fact remains that Thor met Thunor here, Odin met Woden.
You anon, live far to the West, and there is mounting evidence that those plucky explorers got that far, as I'm sure you know. Maybe they survived and intermixed in ways archaeology has yet to show, or maybe they all died. It doesn't matter, not really - because while they lived, they no doubt did the same as those folk who came here, to this small island.
They named places in their native tongues, and probably learnt some Native American names too, just as your countrymen still, in some areas live in places bearing original indigenous names.I've said before that Heathenry is local. Sure, the gods are honoured and worshipped by those who feel the need. Sure, one honours one's ancestors. But one also needs, if one is serious about attempting to achieve a modern version of the Heathen worldview, learn to connect with the environment in which we live.
Now, when I say local, I don't mean you should practice American Heathenry(TM). I don't know where you live in the States anon, but I'm pretty sure it's a place with its own moods and rhythms. From my memory of trips to the US, Maryland is different to Key West is different to the Everglades is different to Miami.
Scale down your consciousness in a sense. Practice the customs and traditions of your town, your house, your garden. There's maybe twenty Heathens in my town that I know of, and of those, they form two distinct populations. Which is perfectly fine. For all I know you're the only Norse Polytheist in the area or choose not to associate with others for political or personal reasons or because they're the kind of silly numpties who believe in white supremacy or some sort of bollocks like that.
That's fine, and it's fine because ultimately, only you can forge the connections needed. Only you can open yourself up to the world in which you live and call the gods to aid you in becoming aware of the threads which bind all wights together.
Only you can make the decision to live in a rooted way, to take your nourishment and strength from the land in which you live. How to do that though? From a non woo perspective, seek out local food and produce if you can - and it doesn't have to be all the time - and make a deliberate attempt to be aware that you are eating the fruits of this land.If you can't find, or can't afford local produce, do the same with a glass of tap water. Even if the source is far away, it has still flowed through this land into your dwelling. Research the history of where you live - if there are any local founders or luminaries, pour them out an offering to say thank you for giving you a place to live. Obviously, in the US, this is fraught with implications regarding the displacement and maltreatment of Native Americans, but in my limited experience of such things, asking the gods to help bridge the gap in honouring all those who came before you, to this place is usually a good step.And then, well, there's trees. As a Norse Polytheist/Heathen, I bloody love trees. Not only can they connect you to Yggdrasil, the World Tree, in meditation, but if you'll recall the Edda, humans came from driftwood enlivened by the gifts of the gods, so in a mythopoetic sense, trees are our kin, and we can learn much from them.
Think about the way they work; they emerge from a seed, sending root-tendrils out for water and nutrients, sprouting and reaching up, turning their leaves to the sun. If you've ever looked at trees along a street, you'll probably notice that those tree roots will have cracked their way throug concrete - their vitality, their urge to seek out what nourishes them within the land in which they are embedded is such that it can break buildings and stone if need be!This is something to contemplate in today's increasingly urban society - that even despite the veneer of glass and steel and concrete, seeds still sprout, trees still grow, in defiance of so called 'civilisation'. And once you begin to notice this - really notice, you might begin to see the pulses and flows of that vitality, ancient, unstoppable, and all around us. You might contemplate that trees give us the fuel for our fires, light for our houses - what's coal after all, but compressed vegetative matter, laid down long ago and burned to create steam which turns turbines producing electricity.
They take in carbon dioxide, give us the oxygen so we can breathe, their green chloroplasts capturing the sunlight, the source of all life on this planet, and their roots keep the topsoil in place so we can farm and consume that which we farm, whether animal or vegetable. Each of them is unique, and some of them are older than we will ever be.
You might begin to consider how the oxygen they excrete mixes with the atmosphere, is stirred by the heat rising from the warmed earth to give us the winds which blow through their branches, setting their leaves to whisper with a language that birds learnt and passed to Odin and Sigurd both.
You might contemplate Nidhogg, down there gnawing at the roots of Yggdrasil, that old wyrm who steams in the cold by the kettle of roaring white-water. And you might consider Sigurd once again, slaying the wyrm and eating its heart as it cooks over a fire.
You might begin to breathe, to remember how your blood feels, there in your veins, right now, flowing, moving, giving you life, hue and goodly shape, all without you even trying. Might begin to feel something stir in your soul, as if a door opens, and suddenly, your ordinary world becomes infused with living beings. Might feel words on a screen suddenly reaching out, calling in old song.
Might iit be possible, for a moment, to recall the excitement of rediscovering something you had thought you had lost? Something you had thought you might never see again?
To entertain the notion that, if only for a while, there are places and times where the thousands of years and miles matter not a jot, because the gods and the ancestors and wights exist, right Here, right Now - maybe even as you read these words? All about you, just waiting, patiently, for you to notice the faintest traces of their presence. All you have to do is take a leap for a moment, a split second.
To allow yourself to be connected. Because you already are, friend. Trust me. Feel free to let me know how it goes, anon.Take care.
