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Abandoned viking village film set and foot of mountain

I was recently contacted by one of my Patreon supporters, who asked me the following question:<blockquote>Have you ever written on innangard and utamgard. In particular, improperly extending moral considerationa or frith beyond the innangard?</blockquote>While I have mentioned these concepts in multiple - maybe even dozens - of podcast episodes, I relaized I had not ever dedicated a blog post to these topics. So, in response to this question, I will attempt to answer this in ways that provide historically backed information, and clarify what modern interpretations have done to skew the sources. What you are about to read will likely challenge your current worldview (I was certainly challenged similarly before coming to my conclusions) so be prepared to get uncomfortable and be held accountable.<figure id="figure-mfkmxwlrr5mkcw659k"><img id="mfkmxwlrr5mkcw659k" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/124406025/photo/ancient-farm.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=DmrlOHr8u2rR1HOgDIioYIRasiw5DV9EIdIOrQOtuGM=" alt="Ancient farm" title="Ancient farm" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/124406025/photo/ancient-farm.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=DmrlOHr8u2rR1HOgDIioYIRasiw5DV9EIdIOrQOtuGM=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure>In modern Heathen discourse, especially within Ásatrú and Germanic Neopagan communities in the United States, the paired concepts of innangard and utangard are frequently invoked as foundational worldview categories — the safe inside versus the hostile outside of community and culture — with frith (Old Norse friðr, Old English friðu) held as the peace and security enjoyed by those within the innangard. But when we look closely at medieval linguistic sources and responsible scholarship, we find that the terms as used today are far more modern constructions than ancient categories — and that understanding this matters deeply for how modern Heathens think about community, belonging, and ethical responsibility.<h2>Innangard and Utangard: Language Before Ideology</h2>Let's begin with getting one thing clear: the&nbsp;Old Norse terms often cited in modern Heathenry — innangarðs, innangarða, útangarða, útangarðs — do indeed exist in medieval texts, but their literary use is far more mundane than many modern glosses assume:<ol><li>Innangarðs simply means “within doors.”</li><li>Innan garða means “within the yard or enclosure.”</li><li>Útangarða means “outside the yard.”</li></ol>These occur in legal codes and sagas composed well after the Christianization of Iceland and were used in practical, not cosmological or spiritual, senses (e.g., describing spaces inside versus outside homes or fenced enclosures).In case I wasn't clear, let me emphasize that the modern compound words “innangard” and “utangard” as worldview categories — especially in the sense of an ordered “in-group” versus chaotic “out-group” — are not attested in Old Norse ritual, poetry, or myth as spiritual teachings or religious constructs. They are modern interpretive borrowings, not discrete categories of pre-Christian Germanic cosmology.<figure id="figure-7ykhvyiznkmkcydpw4"><img id="7ykhvyiznkmkcydpw4" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1332121971/photo/fiery-red-dramatic-sky-fire-war-explosion-catastrophe-flame-horror-concept-web-banner-bloody.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=MuerttpZSDuwd3w2t0sbgWoTMfpQMKmZwCNE_0ePd0I=" alt="Fiery red dramatic sky. Fire, war, explosion, catastrophe, flame. Horror concept. Web banner. Bloody red background with copy space for design." title="Fiery red dramatic sky. Fire, war, explosion, catastrophe, flame. Horror concept. Web banner. Bloody red background with copy space for design." class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1332121971/photo/fiery-red-dramatic-sky-fire-war-explosion-catastrophe-flame-horror-concept-web-banner-bloody.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=MuerttpZSDuwd3w2t0sbgWoTMfpQMKmZwCNE_0ePd0I=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h2>The Americanization and Politicization of the Terms</h2>The widespread use of innangard and utangard in U.S. Heathen communities owes much to 20th-century reinterpretations and, in some cases, to völkisch (folkist) ideologies:<ul><li>In publications from groups like the old Ásatrú Free Assembly and Ásatrú Folk Assembly, innangard was defined as “the enclosed world of the human community, within which order, law and security are found,” and utangard as “the wild and chaotic world” against which this ordered space must be protected.</li><li>Stephen McNallen’s writings in Asatru: A Native European Spirituality (and related organizational materials) made innangard synonymous with a racially defined “Folk Within,” and utangard the adversarial “forces against the Folk,” projecting contemporary racialist frameworks onto what were originally simple spatial descriptors in medieval Icelandic texts.</li></ul>As much as I have recommended his work, it's hard not to trace this interpretive pathway back through Vilhelm Grønbech’s The Culture of the Teutons. While Grønbech’s work has influenced many Heathens, it is deeply colored by Romantic nationalist thought and pseudo-archaeological reconstructions of “Teutonic” identity. In Grønbech’s hands, Midgard (literally “middle enclosure”) became something akin to a sacred ethnic homeland opposed to Utgard, a concept which in turn was absorbed into some modern Heathen interpretations of innangard/utangard dualism.<figure id="figure-lrky8juicwmkcyl4qy"><img id="lrky8juicwmkcyl4qy" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1153579675/photo/baltic-mythology-gods-symbols-made-from-straws-standing-in-the-green-meadow-during-cloudy-day.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=wie80BI_r4t4-tVbspKYzvLIQ43tITL4LSQYYhcG7w8=" alt="Baltic mythology gods symbols made from straws standing in the green meadow during cloudy day" title="Baltic mythology gods symbols made from straws standing in the green meadow during cloudy day" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1153579675/photo/baltic-mythology-gods-symbols-made-from-straws-standing-in-the-green-meadow-during-cloudy-day.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=wie80BI_r4t4-tVbspKYzvLIQ43tITL4LSQYYhcG7w8=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h2>Medieval Usage is Practical, Not Ideological</h2>One crucial point that I would like to emphasize, is that the roots of the Old Norse terms are not mystical or cosmological:<ul><li>In the Poetic Edda and Prose Edda, the realm of giants is called Utgard (e.g., in the tale of Útgarða-Loki). But here the term útgarðar simply describes “outer buildings” or “lands outside the enclosures,” not a metaphysical antithesis to human order.</li><li>Narrative elements in Norse myth — such as Thor’s journey to face giants beyond Midgard’s boundaries — are literary tropes about crossing physical boundaries in mythic stories, not indicators of a systematic spiritual dualism teaching “innangard vs. utangard” as moral categories.</li></ul>Thus, the linguistic and textual evidence supports a much simpler spatial division — inside and outside of built, social space — rather than a deep theological or ethical dichotomy in ancient belief.<h2>Frith: The Real Germanic Social Value</h2>Where medieval Germanic cultures did have a robust concept was in frith — the peace, protection, and mutual obligation binding kin, kindreds, and lawful communities. Frith was not abstract; it was grounded in relationships, law, and reciprocity — and it was enforceable. Medieval legal texts (such as <a data-mce-href="https://www.hurstwic.org/history/articles/society/text/laws.htm" href="https://www.hurstwic.org/history/articles/society/text/laws.htm" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Grágás</a>) reflect how frith was lost when one became an outlaw (excluded from society’s legal protections). Although the innangard/utangard vocabulary may not be directly present, frith is deeply documented in practice.This underscores that if we want to recover a historically grounded Germanic ethos, focus should be on the relational and ethical structures (frith, law, compensation, hospitality) that can be demonstrably connected to medieval texts rather than on modern dualisms imported into the discourse.<figure id="figure-4xt6q5q328mkcyv2gy"><img id="4xt6q5q328mkcyv2gy" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2163038509/photo/a-mythological-landmark-in-copenhagen.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=AlMPsOcHvejMccgrkiZ3CTriR5BKyvudcxGhc4dyMn4=" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="Norse goddess Gefjon statue by Anders Bundgaard on the Gefion Fountain. Churchill Park . Copenhagen. Denmark" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2163038509/photo/a-mythological-landmark-in-copenhagen.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=AlMPsOcHvejMccgrkiZ3CTriR5BKyvudcxGhc4dyMn4=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"><figcaption class="body-normal text-gray-500 mt-2">Norse goddess Gefjon statue by Anders Bundgaard on the Gefion Fountain. Churchill Park . Copenhagen. Denmark</figcaption></figure><h2>Implications for Modern Heathen Communities</h2>I believe that whether we like it or not... whether or not these facts make us uncomfortable... there is no way to rightly gainsay that everything I have stated thus far makes a sober and important point for contemporary Heathens: using innangard and utangard as rigid in-group vs. out-group moral categories can unintentionally echo ideologies (e.g., Nordicist völkisch thought) that have been used to justify exclusionary and even harmful worldviews in the modern era — ideologies that do not reflect the actual complexity of medieval Germanic religion and law.Instead, a historically and ethically robust modern Heathen practice can:<ul><li>Recognize frith as the real ancient social value — peace grounded in mutual obligation and accountability.</li><li>Understand that ancient Norse and Germanic sources do acknowledge boundaries and dangers beyond community life (e.g., giants in myth, lawless spaces), but not in a way that implies a cosmic moral dualism of “us vs. them.”</li><li>Resist appropriating terms or frameworks that have been shaped by ideological movements external to Old Norse religion.</li></ul>In other words, frith — rather than “innangard” as an absolute moral boundary — better captures what mattered in historical Germanic cultures: the commitment to uphold peace, uphold reciprocal bonds, and maintain lawful sanctuary for those within one’s relational network.<h2>Conclusion: A Grounded Heathen Perspective</h2>When we root our understanding of innangard, utangard, and frith in rigorous philology and critical historical scholarship, we move away from unexamined dualisms and ideological borrowings and toward a more nuanced, ethically grounded Heathen worldview. Medieval Germanic peoples certainly recognized inside/outside spatial distinctions, but they did not articulate the innangard/utangard dualism as a cosmological ethics system. Modern Heathens reclaiming these ideas should therefore prioritize frith — understood as peace through community, law, and accountability — and be wary of modern political overlays attached to ancient vocabulary.Modern Heathens (specifically those of us in the United States)&nbsp; must ask themselves the difficult questions and be prepared to face harsh truths. One such question is: How much of Heathenry in the U.S today is really rooted in Romanticism, völkisch ideology, and actual Nazi propaganda? If modern Heathenry really is focused on reconstruction, recreation, and reimagining of the Old Ways, we need to be clear about which old way we intend to follow. For some, the difficulty will be in pruning away beloved elements with roots in a relatively recent and decidedly dark past.<figure id="figure-3f4yjk7k07mkczjfmx"><img id="3f4yjk7k07mkczjfmx" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/20Eyvb5zLunEUME7pfJGBFoQwI9vv3kof0GxXrg5A5G6K2cB5z3QFU6G6zK96XO3.jpg" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/20Eyvb5zLunEUME7pfJGBFoQwI9vv3kof0GxXrg5A5G6K2cB5z3QFU6G6zK96XO3.jpg" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure>Key Sources:<ul><li>Laws of Early Iceland: Grágás I. Translated by Andrew Dennis, Peter Foote, and Richard Perkins. Winnipeg: University of Manitoba Press, 2006.</li><li>Lindow, John. Norse Mythology: A Guide to the Gods, Heroes, Rituals, and Beliefs. Oxford: Oxford, 2001.</li><li>Mees, Bernard. The Science of the Swastika. Budapest: Central European University, 2008.</li><li>“Völkische Altnordistik: The Politics of Nordic Studies in the German-Speaking Countries, 1926-45.” In Old Norse Myths, Literature, and Society: Proceedings of the 11th International Saga Conference, edited by Geraldine Barnes and Margaret Clunies Ross, 316-326. Sydney: Centre for Medieval Studies, University of Sydney, 2000, 319.</li><li>Mitchell, P.M. Vilhelm Grønbech. Boston: Hall-Twayne, 1978.</li><li>Poetic Edda, The. Translated by Carolyne Larrington. Oxford: Oxford, 2014.</li><li>Saxo Grammaticus. The History of the Danes, Books I-IX. Edited by Hilda Ellis Davidson, translated by Peter Fisher. Cambridge: D.S. Brewer, 1996.</li><li>Simek, Rudolf. Dictionary of Northern Mythology. Cambridge: D.S. Brewer, 1993.</li><li>Snorri Sturluson. The Prose Edda. Translated by Jesse Byock. London: Penguin, 2005.</li><li>Stork, John. “Artifacts of Fascism: Nazi Books at the University of Cincinnati Libraries.” University of Cincinnati Digital Resource Commons website.</li><li>Vigfusson, Gudbrand. An Icelandic-English Dictionary. Oxford: Oxford, 1874.</li><li>Vikstrand, Per. “Ásgarðr, Miðgarðr, and Útgarðr: A linguistic approach to a classical problem.” In Old Norse religion in long-term perspectives: Origins, changes, and interactions, edited by Anders Andrén, Kristina Jennbert, and Catharina Raudvere, 354-357. Lund, Sweden: Nordic Academic Press, 2006.</li><li>Wellendorf, Jonas. Gods and Humans in Medieval Scandinavia: Retying the Bonds. Cambridge: Cambridge, 2018.</li></ul>

Re-Examining Innangard, Utangard, and Frith Toward  A Historically Grounded Heathen Ethos

Among modern Heathens, few discussions generate as much quiet tension as when Yule should be observed. Many contemporary practices place Yule on the Winter Solstice, aligning it with broader modern Pagan and solar-based observances. Yet historically, pre-Christian Germanic Heathens did not celebrate Yule on the solstice itself.Instead, the sources point to Yule as a midwinter feast, most plausibly held on the first full moon after the first new moon following the Winter Solstice. This raises an important question that goes far beyond calendar accuracy:Why was Yule observed when it was... and what does that timing reveal about how the gods were understood to be present, accessible, or engaged with humanity?This article explores that question by weaving together historical evidence and theological analysis, not to police modern practice, but to understand what is gained (or lost) when Yule is shifted away from its historical placement.<figure id="figure-5sp4813uhkmjhfrizc"><img id="5sp4813uhkmjhfrizc" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1333326921/photo/digitally-generated-painting-of-a-christmas-scene.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=w0La3wEsoR3KmVtVxldc6qOubgAw4riPnln5q1BpjoU=" alt="Digitally Generated Painting Of A Christmas Scene" title="Digitally Generated Painting Of A Christmas Scene" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1333326921/photo/digitally-generated-painting-of-a-christmas-scene.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=w0La3wEsoR3KmVtVxldc6qOubgAw4riPnln5q1BpjoU=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h2>Historical Grounding: When Was Yule Celebrated?</h2>The Germanic peoples used luni-solar calendars, not fixed solar dates. This is reflected across Norse, Anglo-Saxon, and broader Germanic traditions.Key references include:<ul><li>Snorri Sturluson, Heimskringla and Gylfaginning, which describe midvetrarblót and Yule as a central winter sacrifice, not a solstice rite.</li><li>Saga material indicating Yule as a multi-night feast tied to lunar reckoning.</li><li>Bede, De Temporum Ratione, which attests to Germanic winter festivals such as Mōdraniht, again emphasizing calendrical reckoning distinct from strict solar observance.</li></ul>Taken together, these sources support the understanding that Yule occurred after the solstice, once winter had fully taken hold.The solstice marked a cosmic turning point, but Yule marked something else entirely: endurance within winter, not the promise of its end.<figure id="figure-0y5w3s0wlmjhfvdib"><img id="0y5w3s0wlmjhfvdib" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/37yFonk1vHL0m4yAKgrX9Lga2WqK6jsholC1FMLzKvkmKtPUUFOZWqAm6zjvRU0G.jpg" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/37yFonk1vHL0m4yAKgrX9Lga2WqK6jsholC1FMLzKvkmKtPUUFOZWqAm6zjvRU0G.jpg" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h2>The Gods Were Not Omnipresent—and That Matters</h2>A crucial theological clarification must be made early:The Germanic gods were not omnipresent.Across the Eddas, sagas, and earlier Roman ethnography (notably Tacitus’ Germania), the gods are consistently depicted as:<ul><li>Embodied beings</li><li>Locatable in space</li><li>Required to travel</li><li>Able to arrive late, be absent, or be occupied elsewhere</li></ul>Odin rides Sleipnir between worlds. Thor journeys and is often away from Ásgarðr. The gods assemble for councils. These narrative details are not incidental... they reflect a worldview fundamentally different from later Christian metaphysics.However, non-omnipresence does not mean seasonal absence.<h2>Presence, Accessibility, and Attention: A More Accurate Model</h2>To understand Yule properly, we must abandon binary thinking ("the gods are here" vs. "the gods are gone") and adopt a model that better fits the sources.<ol><li>Existence. The gods always exist. There is no mythic or ritual cycle in which they disappear from the cosmos.</li><li>Presence. The gods are somewhere, not everywhere. They dwell in halls, lands, groves, and realms. Distance (both physical and relational) is real.</li><li>Accessibility. Accessibility is situational and relational, not calendrical in a mechanical sense. It depends on:</li></ol><ul><li>Correct ritual action</li><li>Established reciprocity</li><li>Place</li><li>Communal necessity</li><li>Timing within the cycles of life and survival</li></ul>Yule was not a moment when the gods suddenly became reachable. It was a moment when human vulnerability and divine relevance aligned most sharply.<figure id="figure-76gt40xpkimjhg4ckz"><img id="76gt40xpkimjhg4ckz" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1280644663/photo/frozen-icy-slush-close-up-abstract.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=BvvOjbb8noee1WKux-MMbjMqBCOUrd8xsdXpkzvCFRw=" alt="Frozen Icy Slush Close Up Abstract" title="Frozen Icy Slush Close Up Abstract" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1280644663/photo/frozen-icy-slush-close-up-abstract.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=BvvOjbb8noee1WKux-MMbjMqBCOUrd8xsdXpkzvCFRw=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h2>Why Yule Was Held in Deep Midwinter</h2>By the time of historical Yule:<ul><li>Winter had proven itself</li><li>Stores were diminished</li><li>Hunger and death were no longer abstract threats</li><li>The community had already suffered losses</li></ul>This is the context that gives sacrifice meaning.Old Ways Germanic Heathenry was deeply pragmatic. One does not offer sacrifice based on hope alone, but on necessity. Yule was held when survival was uncertain and when divine favor was not a luxury, but a matter of continuity.In this sense, Yule marks a pressure point in Wyrd: a narrowing of possibilities where the future year had not yet resolved itself.<h2>Were the Gods “Closer” at Yule?</h2>Not closer in location... but closer in relevance.The gods were not thought to descend en masse into Midgard for Yule. Rather, Yule created conditions where:<ul><li>Offerings carried real cost</li><li>Words spoken carried weight</li><li>Oaths mattered</li><li>Reciprocity was tested</li></ul>The gods did not become accessible because of the date. The date mattered because it coincided with human dependence.<figure id="figure-ldfac8ciommjhg97lo"><img id="ldfac8ciommjhg97lo" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2247272433/photo/spruce-forest-on-snow-covered-hills.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=FuuwbrVRU2tMVHyouRxl4oyEJx9e2AZValTSsctRAdI=" alt="spruce forest on snow covered hills" title="spruce forest on snow covered hills" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2247272433/photo/spruce-forest-on-snow-covered-hills.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=FuuwbrVRU2tMVHyouRxl4oyEJx9e2AZValTSsctRAdI=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h2>What Happens When Yule Is Observed on the Solstice?</h2>Celebrating Yule on the Winter Solstice does not “cut off” access to the gods. Germanic religion does not support the idea that performing a rite on the wrong date renders it void.However, it does change the meaning of the act.A solstice Yule:<ul><li>Emphasizes solar rebirth over endurance</li><li>Aligns more closely with modern Pagan symbolism</li><li>Occurs before winter’s full weight is felt</li></ul>This is not inherently wrong... but it is not the same ritual, cosmologically or theologically.What is lost is not divine attention, but existential gravity.<h2>The Real Question Is Reciprocity, Not Access</h2>Germanic Heathen ritual was never about summoning distant gods through precise calendrical correctness. It was about meeting the gods honestly, through:<ul><li>Real sacrifice</li><li>Communal necessity</li><li>Proper timing within lived reality</li></ul>A historically timed Yule forces confrontation with scarcity, mortality, and dependence. Without those elements, the rite risks becoming symbolic rather than consequential.<figure id="figure-c4bydwsxpmmjhgdg9p"><img id="c4bydwsxpmmjhgdg9p" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1164836832/photo/ancient-wooden-slavic-pagan-idol-of-god-heathen-temple-in-the-forest.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=ym9Qh2rNe7_kjNUs1uTAcCa-DoXrrksdktZleNh5RDc=" alt="Ancient wooden slavic pagan idol of god. Heathen temple in the forest" title="Ancient wooden slavic pagan idol of god. Heathen temple in the forest" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1164836832/photo/ancient-wooden-slavic-pagan-idol-of-god-heathen-temple-in-the-forest.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=ym9Qh2rNe7_kjNUs1uTAcCa-DoXrrksdktZleNh5RDc=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h2>Conclusion: Yule as Endurance, Not Just Renewal</h2>Yule was not a celebration of light’s return. It was a declaration of survival in darkness.The gods were never omnipresent, but neither were they seasonal visitors. They walked the worlds, engaged through relationship, obligation, and need.When Yule is moved earlier, what is lost is not access to the gods, but the weight that made calling upon them necessary.Understanding this does not require abandoning modern practice, but it does require honesty about what is being done, and why.In Heathenry, timing was never about perfection. It was about truth.

Yule, Timing, and the Question of Divine Access in Germanic Heathenry

Cursing is as old as the need to punish, shame, or protect reputation within honour societies. In the corpus of Old Norse literature and law we find a family of practices clustered under the word níð: &nbsp;formalized shame, libel, and magical attack. The most visually arresting manifestation recorded in the sagas is the níðstǫng (often anglicized “nithing pole”): a pole topped with a skull or carcass and directed at a rival while runic or poetic words of shame were employed. But níð was not only visual spectacle... it included verbal libel, carved insults, rune-magic, and social sanction such as outlawry. Below I summarize what the sources show, how scholars interpret them, and how the practice sits within wider Old Norse ideas about honour, magic, and law.<figure id="figure-t50zqbg7ywmi7uxkmj"><img id="t50zqbg7ywmi7uxkmj" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/3aSLlYiZGzeTHYruedGMCPihS772eqmSowfeMvMkjBoXpcWPAMFkBZcUhL8LNoHQ.jpg" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: 50% 35%;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="50%" data-positiony="35%" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/3aSLlYiZGzeTHYruedGMCPihS772eqmSowfeMvMkjBoXpcWPAMFkBZcUhL8LNoHQ.jpg" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: 50% 35%;"></figure><h2>What is níð, and why did it matter?</h2>Níð in Old Norse denotes scorn, shame, libel... a form of social and spiritual attack that could strip a person of honour and social standing. To call someone a níðingr (a “nithing”) was among the severest condemnations available in Norse discourse: it implied moral corruption, cowardice, and social exclusion. The laws of medieval Scandinavia treat níð as serious: legal codes discuss verbal níð (tunguníð) versus carved or sculptural níð (tréníð), and some insults could force legal redress because reputation (and the right vengeance or compensation that flowed from it) was foundational to community order.<h2>The níðstǫng in the sagas — the most famous examples</h2>The most famous literary instance of a níðstǫng appears in Egils saga. The poem-warrior Egill Skallagrímsson, enraged at King Eiríkr and Queen Gunnhildr, takes a hazel-pole, fixes a horse’s head to it, carves runes and recites the formal words of the curse, then plants the pole facing the enemy’s land. The saga explicitly says Egill “cut runes, expressing the whole form of the curse.” This scene has become the canonical description used by scholars to illustrate what a níðstǫng looked like in narrative memory.Other saga passages record variations: Vatnsdæla saga contains a similar, but more grotesque, account in which a carved human head appears on a post and animal entrails figure in the ritual; Gísla saga and other texts discuss carved poles or sculptures used to shame rivals -&nbsp; the literary corpus preserves both the ritual and the rhetoric.<figure id="figure-pt7440eehvhmi7v9u1a"><img id="pt7440eehvhmi7v9u1a" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/20Eyvb5zLunEUME7pfJGBFoQwI9vv3kof0GxXrg5A5G6K2cB5z3QFU6G6zK96XO3.jpg" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/20Eyvb5zLunEUME7pfJGBFoQwI9vv3kof0GxXrg5A5G6K2cB5z3QFU6G6zK96XO3.jpg" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h2>How have scholars read the níðstǫng?</h2>Scholars debate whether níðstǫngs were primarily magical (intended to do harm via ritual force) or performative (meant to publicly shame and pressure the target socially and legally). Rudolf Simek and others point out that while the horse’s skull and runes probably carried magical connotations, the appearance of carved faces and insulting gestures can also be read as a form of ritualised mockery... a “wood-shame” meant to mark someone as dishonourable in front of the community. In short: níð combined symbolic, performative, and (in the worldview of the sagas) effective magical elements.Neil Price’s work on magic and ritual in the Viking Age helps contextualize níðstǫng within broader Norse practices (seiðr, galdr, rune-working) used to influence fate, heal, or harm... a suite of ritual technologies that could be wielded by poets, seers, and sorcerers. Price emphasizes that “magic” in the Viking world was embedded in social settings: reputation, patronage, and ritual authority determined whether a magical act was sanctioned or stigmatized.<h2>Forms of níð beyond the pole</h2>Níð is not reducible to the horse-head pole. The legal and literary sources distinguish several modalities:<ul><li>Tunguníð (verbal níð): libellous poems, scornful speeches, and insults - especially those implying cowardice, sexual deviance (labels like ergi), or being a sorcerer’s friend... were grave charges. Skaldic verse could function as a powerful social weapon when performed publicly.</li><li>Tréníð (carved “wood-shame”): carved or sculpted images&nbsp; (effigies with grotesque features) placed where they would be seen by the victim’s community. The níðstǫng fits here.</li><li>Runic inscriptions and galdr (spell-chants): runes could be inscribed to animate or fix an outcome; galdr (magical chant) could be used for both beneficial and harmful ends. These more esoteric forms sit at the intersection of poetry and magic. Neil Price and other scholars treat rune-work as part of the practical toolkit for influencing a person’s fate.</li><li>Legal/social sanction (outlawry): to be declared an outlaw (útlegð) was effectively to be cursed by the community: loss of protection, exclusion, and the legitimisation of violence against the outlaw. In saga society, law and ritual shame sometimes worked in tandem.</li></ul><h2>The rhetorical content: what did níð say?</h2>The substance of níð often targeted manliness, courage, and sexual reputation. Accusations of ergi (unmanliness or sexual passivity) were especially powerful because they attacked the social identity that bound a free man to rights and respect. Níð-stanzas&nbsp; (compact, sharp, and performative) could effectively “publish” someone’s shame; the literary record preserves examples where a single bite of verse drives conflict to bloodshed or legal action.<h2>The horse’s head: symbolism and interpretation</h2>Why a horse’s head? Scholars offer a range of interpretations. Some read the horse as sacrificial: a valuable animal given over to the ritual to animate the curse and enlist animal potency. Others suggest the gendering of the animal (a mare) could be an intended insult (implying cowardice or femininity), reinforcing the charge of ergi. Either way, in saga logic the horse-head is an unmistakable, visceral sign: an accusation posted where both land and community can “see” the shame.<h2>Continuity and reinvention: níðstǫng in later and modern contexts</h2>The níð-tradition did not die in the sagas. Icelandic newspapers record modern instances (2006, 2016, 2020, 2022) where poles topped with animal heads or other grotesqueries were erected as political protest or personal vendetta; such incidents have sometimes been treated as criminal threats rather than merely folk-protest. Atlas Obscura and Icelandic media have written accessible accounts of modern níðstǫng events, demonstrating how the symbolic grammar survives and can be repurposed... with all the legal and social complications that entails.<figure id="figure-mhrk5xtfhhmi7w0c30"><img id="mhrk5xtfhhmi7w0c30" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/8O34Nqkg5xMAQG9C6uneOMCGLwNhjIKtaPzg0jyVJV96AlSHzupURIcvJs4LjM3b.jpg" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: 50% 25%;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="Egil Skallagrímsson raises a níðstöng – Sculpture by Gustav Vigeland (1869-1943)" data-positionx="50%" data-positiony="25%" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/8O34Nqkg5xMAQG9C6uneOMCGLwNhjIKtaPzg0jyVJV96AlSHzupURIcvJs4LjM3b.jpg" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: 50% 25%;"><figcaption class="body-normal text-gray-500 mt-2">Egil Skallagrímsson raises a níðstöng – Sculpture by Gustav Vigeland (1869-1943)</figcaption></figure><h2>What can we responsibly conclude?</h2><ol><li>Níð was social power. In a culture where honour, reputation, and public action governed rights and remedies, níð functioned as a potent weapon: it could shame, rally legal consequences, and—at least in literary imagination—reach into the metaphysical.</li><li>The níðstǫng is both symbol and ritual. The pole is a dramatic, material form of níð that blends performance (public insult), visual rhetoric (a skull or carved head), runic communication, and perceived magical agency.</li><li>Cursing practices sat inside a moral-legal framework. The same societies that recorded magical rites also maintained legal remedies and penalties; a níð could invite retribution or prosecution. The line between ritual insult and legal offense was porous.</li><li>Modern echoes are complicated. Contemporary instances show how the imagery survives as protest, folklore, and threat; today such acts are judged through modern legal standards rather than saga logic.</li></ol><h2>Further reading / sources</h2>Below are the main primary and secondary sources I used while researching this post... good starting places if you want to follow individual threads further.Primary / saga texts<ul><li>Egils saga Skalla-Grímssonar — (English translations and online editions; ch. 57/60 contain the níðstǫng episode).</li></ul>Reference works &amp; scholarship<ul><li>Rudolf Simek, Dictionary of Northern Mythology — entry discussions of níð and the níðstǫng; helpful synthesis of sources and interpretations.</li><li>Neil Price, The Viking Way: Religion and War in Late Iron Age Scandinavia — major modern treatment of magic, seiðr, and ritual practice in Viking/Norse contexts.</li></ul>Articles, legal background, and analyses<ul><li>“Níð, ergi and Old Norse moral attitudes” (scholarly treatments and PDFs discussing tunguníð and tréníð).</li><li>Studies on Grágás and medieval Icelandic law (background on outlawry and legal implications of slander).</li></ul>Contextual &amp; popular sources (examples, modern cases)<ul><li><a data-mce-href="https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/iceland-nithing-pole?utm_source=chatgpt.com" href="https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/iceland-nithing-pole?utm_source=chatgpt.com" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Atlas Obscura</a> — “The Return of Iceland’s Nithing Poles, or Dead Horse …” (overview of saga account and modern instances).</li><li><a data-mce-href="https://www.icelandreview.com/news/society/i-take-it-as-a-threat-nithing-pole-erected-at-local-commune/?srsltid=AfmBOooGq_9XUQUPgqLWPqkhe1KyDdT17wBWt667cAc0rbs31bZkSQ9R&amp;utm_source=chatgpt.com" href="https://www.icelandreview.com/news/society/i-take-it-as-a-threat-nithing-pole-erected-at-local-commune/?srsltid=AfmBOooGq_9XUQUPgqLWPqkhe1KyDdT17wBWt667cAc0rbs31bZkSQ9R&amp;utm_source=chatgpt.com" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Iceland Review</a> and contemporary press reports documenting recent níðstǫng incidents (examples of continuity and legal response).</li></ul><figure id="figure-h3arlk62xpmi7wag19"><img id="h3arlk62xpmi7wag19" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/36pzlMDk011jNaoxLZEmdzwuMcpy7pMbi9qUyO5ipt8QCEw7K561BQkhcDG6u9z6.jpg" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: 50% 5%;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="50%" data-positiony="5%" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/36pzlMDk011jNaoxLZEmdzwuMcpy7pMbi9qUyO5ipt8QCEw7K561BQkhcDG6u9z6.jpg" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: 50% 5%;"></figure><h3>Disclaimer: The aim of this blog article is historical and interpretive. Descriptions of níð, runes, and ritual symbolism are grounded in textual and scholarly work... not a how-to. Writing or enacting rituals that harm or threaten others carries real legal and ethical consequences, both historically and today; treat the past as a source of understanding rather than a blueprint for harming people now.</h3>

Horse-heads and Spoken Shame: Níðstǫng and Cursing in Pre-Christian Germanic Heathenry

3d illustration of a pale-faced girl in fantasy bronze helmet on dark background.

The Old Germanic word idis (OHG itis, Old Saxon idis, Old English ides) generally means “woman,” often with connotations of dignity or status: a matron, respected woman or noble lady. But in the fragments of continental and insular Germanic evidence that survive, Idisi sometimes appear as more than human: they behave like semi-divine female beings who bind, loose, protect, choose or afflict at key moments in war and fate. These patchy but fascinating traces make the Idisi a liminal and polyvalent class of female powers in the Germanic imagination. Let's get into it...<figure id="figure-w5ch123zcmhxonbmu"><img id="w5ch123zcmhxonbmu" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/15HfZxPv4BbAL8M0hLvENgK4iZYymxMubMWWWpYC12wQkbg3HDui0fsw2El9IWny.jpg" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="Merseburg Incantations manuscript (Merseburger Domstiftsbibliothek, Codex 136, f. 85r, 10th Cy.)" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/15HfZxPv4BbAL8M0hLvENgK4iZYymxMubMWWWpYC12wQkbg3HDui0fsw2El9IWny.jpg" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"><figcaption class="body-normal text-gray-500 mt-2">Merseburg Incantations manuscript (Merseburger Domstiftsbibliothek, Codex 136, f. 85r, 10th Cy.)</figcaption></figure><h2>The clearest surviving witness: the First Merseburg Charm </h2>Our single most direct continental testimony for the Idisi is the First Merseburg Charm, an Old High German incantation preserved in a 10th-century manuscript from Merseburg. The charm contains a short mythic preamble and a command formula. The preamble names a group of “Idisi” who sit “here and there,” some fastening fetters, some hampering the army, and some loosing the bonds... after which the spell orders fetters to leap and prisoners to escape. That brief passage is the most concrete evidence we have that a Germanic conception of supernatural women who could bind or unbind forces on the battlefield once circulated in the Germanic world.<blockquote>Eiris sazun idisi, sazun hera duoder; suma hapt heptidun, suma heri lezidun, suma clubodun umbi cuoniouuidi: insprinc haptbandun, inuar uigandun</blockquote> Why is this important? Because the verbs and imagery (binding fetters, hampering an army, unloosing bonds) are precisely the sort of powers that later sources attribute to related female beings (valkyries, dísir, norns): to determine outcomes in battle, to protect or punish, and to intervene in fate. The charm thus places the Idisi in a functional neighborhood that overlaps with other female entities of Germanic lore.<h2>Idisi, Dísir, Valkyries: same family, different facts </h2>Scholars typically treat Idisi as cognate with the Old Norse dísir (and by extension related to the Old Norse term dís and to Old English ides). The semantic range is broad: in some contexts the term simply denotes any lady; in others it points to supernatural female beings with roles that can include guardian spirits, ancestral matrons, fate-givers (norn-like figures) or war-choosers (valkyrie-like figures). Rudolf Simek, Hilda Ellis Davidson and others argue that the Idisi named in the Merseburg charm are likely a kind of valkyrie-like figure because of their explicit power to hamper or free warriors... a classic valkyrie function in Norse sources. Still, not every idis in the sources is a valkyrie; the term’s use is context-dependent.&nbsp;Two points help to keep the picture tidy:<ul><li>Linguistically, idis/itis/ides across Germanic languages often marks a “dignified” woman (the same root that gives the Old English courtly word ides).</li><li>Functionally, when Idisi are invoked in magic or myth (as in the Merseburg charm), they behave like supernatural female agents who can influence warfare and fate: behavior also found in the corpus of valkyrie and dísir lore.</li></ul><figure id="figure-0vlvinwiymhxpfwbm"><img id="0vlvinwiymhxpfwbm" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2196637737/photo/scenic-aerial-drone-landscape-featuring-viking-village-and-majestic-vestrahorn-mountain.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=BeFMDEps3O9eieHMcXtGcwjE94nizH_m_lujZQDJGiA=" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2196637737/photo/scenic-aerial-drone-landscape-featuring-viking-village-and-majestic-vestrahorn-mountain.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=BeFMDEps3O9eieHMcXtGcwjE94nizH_m_lujZQDJGiA=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h2>Place-names and classical references: traces beyond the charm </h2>The name Idisiaviso (interpreted as “plain of the Idisi”) appears in classical Roman reports of Germanic geography and warfare (Tacitus and later sources report a location tied to clashes between Roman forces and Germanic tribes). Place-names like this and brief external references hint that the concept of the Idisi (or at least of sacred female collectives) was visible enough in the early centuries CE to be encoded in landscape and to be noticed by external observers. That adds weight to the idea that Idisi were once part of more widespread religious or folk practice.<h2>Functions and imagery: what did the Idisi actually do? </h2>From the available sources we can list several recurring functions:<ul><li>Bind and unbind: The Merseburg charm is explicit that Idisi could fasten fetters, hinder an army, or loose fetters... a literal magical control of constraint and freedom. This is one of the most striking and tangible “powers” ascribed to them.</li><li>Choose and escort the slain (valkyrie overlap): Because their actions influence armies and individual warriors, later scholars situate the Idisi near valkyries in role if not always in name. They may choose who is hampered, who is protected, or even who dies.</li><li>Guardian / ancestral / fate roles (dísir / norn overlap): In Icelandic tradition and some continental echoes, the dísir could be ancestral guardians or fate-related female powers: suggesting Idisi could similarly function as household or clan protectors, or as fate-weavers in certain contexts.&nbsp;</li></ul>Because the surviving evidence is fragmentary, the Idisi’s roles should be understood as overlapping categories rather than tidy modern taxonomies.<figure id="figure-03r6zy8rffl5mhxppezg"><img id="03r6zy8rffl5mhxppezg" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/3b77pSveC2C8FsGN7xQqZrrBmgwDwkVz4NfxeDhRXFIWDO4evVgiN0Mc1S9WwXKs.jpg" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: 50% 95%;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="50%" data-positiony="95%" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/3b77pSveC2C8FsGN7xQqZrrBmgwDwkVz4NfxeDhRXFIWDO4evVgiN0Mc1S9WwXKs.jpg" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: 50% 95%;"><figcaption class="body-normal text-gray-500 mt-2">"Idise" (1905) by Emil Doepler.</figcaption></figure><h2>Scholarly debate and cautions </h2>A few caveats scholars always stress:<ul><li>Limited data: The Merseburg spells and a handful of Old English poetic usages (e.g., ides in Beowulf to denote noble women) are the core evidence. That’s not enough to reconstruct a full cult or theology. Interpretations must therefore be cautious and comparative, drawing on cognate Norse evidence to fill gaps.</li><li>Polysemy of the term: Because idis is both an ordinary word for “lady” and a possible technical name for supernatural women, one must carefully interpret each occurrence in context rather than assume a uniform supernatural class wherever the word appears.</li><li>Cross-cultural projection: Using richly documented Old Norse material (Eddic poems, sagas) to interpret continental Old High German fragments is common and useful, but it risks projecting later Scandinavian mythic developments back onto sparser continental evidence. Scholarly work tends to balance Scandinavian riches against continental caution.</li></ul><h2>The Idisi in modern practice and imagination </h2>In contemporary heathen and reconstructionist contexts the Idisi are often revived as a matrix of ancestral, protective and warrior-feminine powers. Some groups invoke the Idisi in rites of protection or at liminal moments (battles of the spirit, threshold crossings); others study the Merseburg charm as a model for how ritual language might be constructed. If you choose to work with the Idisi in ritual, keep the historical humility: the sources show function and attestation, but they don’t give us a full liturgy or theology...there’s respectful room for creative reconstruction anchored to the texts.&nbsp;<h2>Final Thoughts</h2>The Idisi sit at a crossroads in Germanic religious imagination: linguistically ordinary women and mythically potent female beings overlap in the surviving record. The Merseburg charm remains our sharpest window: a few lines that preserve a living sense of women who reached into battle and fate itself to bind or loosen the world. That small window has helped modern scholars link Idisi, Dísir, Valkyries and Norns into a looser family of female powers... and that network continues to fascinate practitioners and scholars alike.<figure id="figure-ry6qvbil7smhxq4p1y"><img id="ry6qvbil7smhxq4p1y" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/1cJ6dvuik4kVU1HWznVuI2JqaclKc1xeJLlcciyv4L3teifiiQg4nuOKeRNpBP6l.jpg" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/1cJ6dvuik4kVU1HWznVuI2JqaclKc1xeJLlcciyv4L3teifiiQg4nuOKeRNpBP6l.jpg" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"><figcaption class="body-normal text-gray-500 mt-2">"The Dises" (1909) by Dorothy Hardy.</figcaption></figure>Sources / Suggested Reading:<ul><li>Rudolf Simek, Dictionary of Northern Mythology (1993 / rev. ed.). </li><li>H. R. Ellis Davidson, Gods and Myths of Northern Europe (1964). </li><li>Jacob Grimm, Teutonic Mythology (classic reference; 19th century). </li><li>Wolfgang Beck, Die Merseburger Zaubersprüche (ed.), and modern translations/commentaries by Joseph S. Hopkins (Hyldyr Press) and others.</li><li>John Lindow, Introduction to the Merseburg Spells (online essay / commentary).&nbsp;</li><li>Merseburg Cathedral / Domstiftsbibliothek page on the Merseburg charms (manuscript display / context).</li></ul>

The Idisi: Women of Fate, Battle and Blessing in Germanic Myth

Among the most fascinating and complex ideas in Norse and broader Germanic belief is that of the Fylgja (Old Norse fylgja, “follower” or “one who accompanies”). To the pre-Christian Norse, the human soul was not a single, indivisible essence, but a composite being: a web of interwoven parts that extended beyond the flesh. The fylgja was one of these parts: mysterious, protective, often prophetic, and deeply personal.In this article, we’ll explore the fylgja as it appears in the sources, how it functions in relation to the soul, how it manifests and changes, what it does for us while we live, and where it goes when we die.<figure id="figure-l64eegtzhamhw6tkki"><img id="l64eegtzhamhw6tkki" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1283689744/photo/photo-collage-of-portraits-of-a-beautiful-woman-and-an-alaskan-malamute-dog-on-a-black.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=xbFOoP5Po-FJdwat1-cYSUGfSntU_Y-2_l8cCbWlS-o=" alt="Photo collage of portraits of a beautiful woman and an Alaskan Malamute dog on a black background" title="Photo collage of portraits of a beautiful woman and an Alaskan Malamute dog on a black background" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1283689744/photo/photo-collage-of-portraits-of-a-beautiful-woman-and-an-alaskan-malamute-dog-on-a-black.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=xbFOoP5Po-FJdwat1-cYSUGfSntU_Y-2_l8cCbWlS-o=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h2>What Is a Fylgja? </h2>The term fylgja literally means “follower.” It refers to a spirit or aspect of the self that accompanies a person throughout life — sometimes appearing in animal form, sometimes as a woman. In the fylgja, we see both an externalized soul and a spiritual guardian.The Ynglinga Saga (ch. 7) gives one of the clearest clues to its nature:<blockquote>The men of old believed that every man had his own spirit, which took the shape of an animal. If it was strong, the man would be strong; if it was faint, the man’s luck would fail.</blockquote> This description blurs the line between fylgja and <a data-mce-href="https://randomheathenramblings.com/blog/the-mystery-of-hamingja--luck--spirit--and-legacy-in-norse-and-germanic-belief" href="https://randomheathenramblings.com/blog/the-mystery-of-hamingja--luck--spirit--and-legacy-in-norse-and-germanic-belief" target="_blank" rel="noopener">hamingja</a>, as both were thought to reflect one’s inner vitality and fortune. However, the fylgja is more directly linked to fate, instinct, and spiritual protection... an embodiment of the soul’s animal or ancestral essence.<h2>Fylgja in the Sagas: Animal Spirits and Prophetic Dreams </h2>In the Eyrbyggja Saga (ch. 43), a man named Thorolf Twist-Foot is described as so hateful and ill-tempered that, after death, he becomes a revenant haunting his old homestead. His fylgja (an ox) had been seen before his death, acting violently and restlessly. The sighting foreshadowed Thorolf’s death and his troubled spirit’s return.Similarly, in Laxdæla Saga (ch. 67), Gudrun Osvifsdóttir dreams of a great number of oxen... each representing the fylgjur of men who would come to court her. The fylgja, then, could serve as a symbolic manifestation of fate, visible in dreams to those with sight.Scholar Gabriel Turville-Petre writes in Myth and Religion of the North (1964):<blockquote>The fylgja may be regarded as a kind of double or guardian spirit. It reveals itself most often in dreams, but sometimes may be seen by others when death is near.</blockquote>Thus, the fylgja bridges the spiritual and physical... guiding, warning, and mirroring its human counterpart.<figure id="figure-drs8oyn2xcmhw7kh1r"><img id="drs8oyn2xcmhw7kh1r" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/807376292/photo/beautiful-fashionable-young-woman-with-a-little-alive-lion-cub.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=worlyMsXNclJ7m0cewjFrAVgxcG6oGPr8Ame5RUn7pQ=" alt="Beautiful fashionable young woman with a little alive lion cub" title="Beautiful fashionable young woman with a little alive lion cub" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/807376292/photo/beautiful-fashionable-young-woman-with-a-little-alive-lion-cub.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=worlyMsXNclJ7m0cewjFrAVgxcG6oGPr8Ame5RUn7pQ=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h2>The Fylgja as Guardian and Soul-Double </h2>The fylgja can act as both guardian and spiritual reflection. The animal form represents a person’s inner nature: fierce, cunning, steadfast, or nurturing. Seeing one’s fylgja in waking life, however, was usually an omen of death.In Vatnsdæla Saga (ch. 37), Ingimund sees his fylgja in the form of a woman shortly before he dies, echoing the belief that to meet one’s fylgja face-to-face was to confront the boundary of life itself.This belief fits within a wider Indo-European pattern: many cultures speak of animal companions or doubles tied to the soul... the Roman genius, the Slavic domovoi, or the Egyptian ka. But in the Norse world, the fylgja had an intimate and often perilous role: it followed, unseen, until the end.<h2>Types of Fylgjur </h2>There are two main categories often discussed in the sources and scholarship:<ol><li>Personal Fylgja (Individual Spirit): This is the fylgja tied to one’s life and fate. It might appear as an animal reflecting the person’s character: a wolf for strength, a fox for cunning, a cow for gentleness. </li><li>Ancestral or Familial Fylgja (Ættarfylgja): Some fylgjur are tied to bloodlines rather than individuals. These ancestral spirits guard the family’s luck, guiding it across generations. H.R. Ellis Davidson noted in Gods and Myths of Northern Europe (1964):</li></ol><blockquote>The fylgja could be passed down within the family, as part of the hamingja, thus binding the living and the dead in one spiritual continuum.</blockquote>In this way, the fylgja connects us not only to our personal soul but to our ancestral lineage... a living current of inherited spirit.<h2>How the Fylgja Strengthens and Weakens </h2>Because the fylgja mirrors the inner self, its health depends on how we live. Acts of honor, courage, and self-discipline strengthen the bond between human and fylgja. Conversely, cowardice, treachery, and spiritual neglect cause it to weaken or stray.To live “in harmony with one’s fylgja” is to live in alignment with one’s true nature and fate. Some Heathen practitioners describe this as walking with your fylgja beside you... a poetic way to express self-awareness and integrity.<figure id="figure-q0zvpqm24mhw83a8d"><img id="q0zvpqm24mhw83a8d" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/674133206/photo/out-of-body.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=mpDtempCQq4z4E01Ic0105zJDOwdz_sQRCXYkKApEl8=" alt="Out Of Body" title="Out Of Body" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/674133206/photo/out-of-body.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=mpDtempCQq4z4E01Ic0105zJDOwdz_sQRCXYkKApEl8=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h2>The Fylgja After Death </h2>When a person dies, their fylgja departs. But where does it go? The sources suggest two possibilities:<ul><li>It may remain tied to the family, becoming an ættarfylgja... a guardian of descendants. </li><li>Or it may follow the soul into the afterlife, accompanying it to the realm that best suits its fate (Hel, Valhöll, etc.). </li></ul>In Gisla Saga Súrssonar (ch. 18), Gisli’s wife sees his fylgja in dream-form after his death, symbolizing his passage from the living world. The fylgja lingers briefly:&nbsp; a last reflection of the man’s spirit before dissolving or rejoining his kin’s luck.<h2>Modern Understanding and Practice </h2>In modern Heathenry, the fylgja is often interpreted as a spiritual ally, similar to a guardian spirit or totem animal. Some practitioners seek to meet their fylgja through trance, dreamwork, or seiðr.However, it’s important to note that in the historical record, one did not choose their fylgja. It was born with you... bound to your essence and fate.Modern reconstructionists and scholars like Jón Hnefill Aðalsteinsson (Under the Cloak, 1998) emphasize that the fylgja reflects a relational spirituality:&nbsp; the Norse understanding that selfhood is shared between the seen and unseen worlds. To honor your fylgja is to honor your wyrd...&nbsp; your personal thread in the great web of existence.<h2>In Summary </h2>The fylgja is:<ul><li>A soul-double or guardian spirit that accompanies each person through life. </li><li>Often appears in animal or feminine form, especially in dreams. </li><li>Reflects character and fate: a spiritual mirror of the self. </li><li>Strengthens through honorable living and alignment with one’s true nature. </li><li>May linger or transform after death, joining the ancestral line. </li></ul>To live in harmony with your fylgja is to walk your path consciously; aware that your spirit extends beyond your skin, beyond this lifetime, into the unseen company of those who came before and those who will come after.<figure id="figure-fd4jexf5qemhwb0v5z" class="selected"><img id="fd4jexf5qemhwb0v5z" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/dD5IDF4BTvzFmtBnnYUJgDI65nRyKv0No0dBeczwm3tt9kdkvW10hNTqn4daCX6T.jpg" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: 50% 60%;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="50%" data-positiony="60%" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/dD5IDF4BTvzFmtBnnYUJgDI65nRyKv0No0dBeczwm3tt9kdkvW10hNTqn4daCX6T.jpg" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: 50% 60%;"></figure>Recommended Reading/Sources<ul><li>Eyrbyggja Saga, ch. 43 </li><li>Laxdæla Saga, ch. 67 </li><li>Vatnsdæla Saga, ch. 37 </li><li>Ynglinga Saga, ch. 7 </li><li>Turville-Petre, Gabriel. Myth and Religion of the North. Oxford, 1964. </li><li>Davidson, H.R. Ellis. Gods and Myths of Northern Europe. Penguin, 1964. </li><li>Aðalsteinsson, Jón Hnefill. Under the Cloak: A Pagan Ritual Turning Point in the Conversion of Iceland. Háskólaútgáfan, 1998. </li><li>Strömbäck, Dag. Sejd: Textstudier i nordisk religionshistoria. Stockholm, 1935.</li></ul>

The Fylgja: The Hidden Follower of the Soul

When we study the old ways of our Northern ancestors, we quickly realize something: they didn’t think of the soul as one simple thing. The self... what made a person who they were... was a weave of multiple parts, each with its own purpose, power, and destiny.Two of these aspects, the hamr and the hugr, show us how the Norse people understood the connection between body, mind, and spirit. Together, they form the bridge between the visible self and the unseen world: the form and the will of one’s being.<figure id="figure-lipyl8uwx7mhpanps0"><img id="lipyl8uwx7mhpanps0" src="https://cdn.durable.co/covers/10itvIGQHXukw2W68YlsCopKyxsXbESOt3bOgz8gfghPatYZJpXheLRu1yo9SAv3.jpg" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="Drawing of the Ramsund carving from c. 1030, illustrating the Völsunga saga on a rock in Sweden" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/covers/10itvIGQHXukw2W68YlsCopKyxsXbESOt3bOgz8gfghPatYZJpXheLRu1yo9SAv3.jpg" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"><figcaption class="body-normal text-gray-500 mt-2">Drawing of the Ramsund carving from c. 1030, illustrating the Völsunga saga on a rock in Sweden</figcaption></figure><h2>Hamr: The Shape That Defines You</h2>In Old Norse, hamr literally means “shape” or “skin.” At first glance, it might sound like just the outer body. But in Norse cosmology, it’s much more than flesh. The hamr is the spiritual shape - the form that holds your essence. It’s the vessel through which your inner power moves, and it can change.To “change one’s hamr,” or skipta hömum, meant to shape-shift, to alter the appearance of one’s spirit — sometimes physically, sometimes in dreams, and sometimes through magic.Hamr in the Sagas The sagas are filled with accounts of men and women who could alter or send forth their hamr:<ul><li>In Hrólfs saga kraka, Böðvarr Bjarki’s spirit manifests as a great bear fighting in his stead — his hamr acting separately from his body.</li><li>In Eyrbyggja saga, a woman named Katla sends her hamr to deceive and mislead pursuers, while her physical body remains hidden at home.</li><li>Even Odin himself is said to travel hamförum — “in the form of another shape” — sending his hamr through the worlds while his body lies as if asleep.</li></ul>These tales reveal that the hamr wasn’t seen as rigid or fixed. It was an expression of one’s spiritual vitality... the form your soul could take when freed from the bounds of flesh.<h2>The Hamr and the Self</h2>To the Norse mind, hamr defined identity in a way we might call “energetic.” Your hamr reflected your inner state. A strong spirit shone through a strong hamr; a person wracked by guilt, sickness, or dark magic might have a weakened or “twisted” one.Rudolf Simek describes the hamr as “the shape in which a being reveals itself,” and that “it could be changed or sent forth from the body” (Dictionary of Northern Mythology, 1993).This explains the many saga scenes where warriors dream of fighting animals that later turn out to represent human foes — they were perceiving the hamr of another, rather than their fleshly form.So in many ways, the hamr is both your appearance and your aura — the visible and invisible shape of who you are.<h2>Shifting, Sending, and Strengthening the Hamr</h2>The art of changing or sending forth the hamr is sometimes called hamfarir — “shape-journeys.” Those skilled in this art could project their spiritual body to distant places, commune with spirits, or even affect events in the physical world.But not everyone could do this at will. In some sagas, the ability comes through divine favor or lineage; in others, through magical training (seiðr). Odin, for instance, was said to “fly in the shape of animals, or send his spirit elsewhere” (see Ynglinga saga ch. 7).Strengthening the hamr, therefore, meant living in alignment with your spiritual power: maintaining health, clarity, and inner balance. When the body, mind, and will were at peace, the hamr was said to “shine” with vitality.In the modern Heathen worldview, we might say: your hamr is your presence... how your spirit shows up in the world, both seen and unseen.<figure id="figure-9gppl0i36jmhpav27e"><img id="9gppl0i36jmhpav27e" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1313456479/photo/man-and-soul-yoga-lotus-pose-meditation-on-nebula-galaxy-background.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=4r7GP2MTYnIH6uE24FvQgbjrTFGR7QTbnmUJASyzsAY=" alt="Man and soul. Yoga lotus pose meditation on nebula galaxy background" title="Man and soul. Yoga lotus pose meditation on nebula galaxy background" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1313456479/photo/man-and-soul-yoga-lotus-pose-meditation-on-nebula-galaxy-background.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=4r7GP2MTYnIH6uE24FvQgbjrTFGR7QTbnmUJASyzsAY=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h2>Hugr: The Thought, the Will, the Inner Self</h2>Where hamr is the shape, hugr is the thought... the will, emotion, and intent that moves within.The Old Norse word hugr (cognate with Old English hyge) means “mind,” “heart,” or “soul-thought.” It’s the living awareness that bridges consciousness and emotion: not quite intellect, not quite feeling, but both together.In many sources, the hugr is depicted as mobile - able to leave the body, travel in dreams, or influence others through sheer force of intent.<blockquote>“Men’s thoughts could travel; they could be sent forth from the body, and even appear to others as visible shapes.” — H.R. Ellis Davidson, The Road to Hel (1943)</blockquote><h2>Hugr in the Lore</h2>A few examples show the power and nature of the hugr:<ul><li>In Gisli’s Saga, dreams reveal the thoughts (hugr) of enemies, showing their intent before the events unfold.</li><li>In Njáls saga, prophetic dreams are understood as visions of the hugr moving between worlds.</li><li>Odin’s own mastery of magic relies on the ability to control and direct his hugr — his will being strong enough to bend reality itself.</li></ul>The hugr was not just thought... it was the force behind thought. A person with a powerful hugr could influence events and people simply through intensity of presence or focus.In that sense, the hugr is the seat of charisma, magic, and mental strength.<h2>Hamr and Hugr: Body and Will, Form and Mind </h2>To truly grasp the Norse view of the self, we have to see hamr and hugr as two halves of a whole.The hamr is the form your soul wears... both physical and spiritual. The hugr is the mind and will that animates that form.In combination, they describe a living, dynamic self: one capable of transformation, magic, and growth.A strong hugr empowers the hamr, giving it clarity and strength. A wounded or fragmented hugr may lead to sickness, confusion, or loss of shape... what we might call "soul-sickness" today.And when the hugr is balanced and clear, the hamr shines brightly — the two in harmony, expressing the full power of one’s being.<figure id="figure-4sbmea4gl7mhpb5h1p" class=""><img id="4sbmea4gl7mhpb5h1p" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/17OCiSQkNQeJjN6CTTvmBGIHM9Z55XFCDEKnbVMXrnipHBXXuuYr3dUlN4os44Sl.jpg" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="Sigmund and Sinfjötli fighting in wolf form from “The Children of Odin”, by Padraic Colum 1920." data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/17OCiSQkNQeJjN6CTTvmBGIHM9Z55XFCDEKnbVMXrnipHBXXuuYr3dUlN4os44Sl.jpg" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"><figcaption class="body-normal text-gray-500 mt-2">Sigmund and Sinfjötli fighting in wolf form from “The Children of Odin”, by Padraic Colum 1920.</figcaption></figure><h2>How the Hamr and Hugr Interact with the Other Soul Parts </h2>Old Norse belief recognized several “soul-parts”: önd (breath, divine spark), líf (life), hamr (shape), hugr (thought/will), fylgja (companion spirit), and hamingja (luck or family fortune).They’re not separate “souls” so much as overlapping dimensions of being... layers of consciousness, ancestry, and fate.<ul><li>The hugr directs thought and intent.</li><li>The hamr manifests that intent in form.</li><li>The hamingja ensures fortune follows righteous action.</li><li>And the fylgja acts as companion and mirror, revealing one’s deeper nature.</li></ul>Together, they make up a fully realized person:&nbsp; mind, spirit, and body unified in motion.<h2>Strengthening Hamr and Hugr in Modern Practice </h2>For modern Heathens, understanding these ancient ideas can offer guidance on living more fully and consciously. Here are some ways to work with them today... not as superstition, but as living metaphors rooted in ancestral wisdom.To Strengthen the Hamr <ul><li>Care for the body and spirit alike. Diet, rest, exercise, and spiritual hygiene all reinforce the health of your hamr.</li><li>Engage in meditation or “shape” practices: visualization, journeying, or ritual to explore how your inner form feels and shifts.</li><li>Live authentically; deception or self-betrayal warps the hamr, while integrity keeps it strong and bright.</li></ul>To Cultivate the Hugr<ul><li>Train the will through discipline and focus: in crafts, martial arts, study, or magic.</li><li>Speak your intent clearly. Words shape the hugr as runes shape reality.</li><li>Maintain emotional awareness. A turbulent hugr leads to scattered luck; a calm one directs it with purpose.</li></ul>When hamr and hugr are in harmony, the individual stands as a whole being... mind, body, and spirit aligned. This was the ancient ideal of personal strength and wisdom.<h2>Conclusion</h2>The Norse understanding of the soul was anything but simple. They saw human beings as multi-layered...&nbsp; capable of shifting shape, projecting thought, and influencing fate itself through the power of will.To live with a strong hamr and a clear hugr is to live intentionally: to let your spiritual shape reflect your truest self, and your thoughts direct your destiny.As the poet in Hávamál reminds us:<h3>“A man’s mind can be no greater Than the measure of his understanding.”</h3>In that truth lies the ancient key: guard your thoughts, shape your spirit, and your hamr will shine with the strength of your hugr.<figure id="figure-ipk5w8p77qmhpbegt3"><img id="ipk5w8p77qmhpbegt3" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/29YOxZzZqh1GOkeyvZXRB4aRzNhWOTONpdQPvV6K3FjNJqcAXPrHEyJ9mSZfmBYY.jpg" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/29YOxZzZqh1GOkeyvZXRB4aRzNhWOTONpdQPvV6K3FjNJqcAXPrHEyJ9mSZfmBYY.jpg" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"><figcaption class="body-normal text-gray-500 mt-2">"HAMR" by Einar Martinsen</figcaption></figure>Suggested Reading &amp; Sources <ul><li>Ynglinga saga, ch. 7 – Odin’s shape-shifting and “sending forth his spirit.”</li><li>Eyrbyggja saga – the tale of Katla and her deceptive hamr. </li><li>Hrólfs saga kraka – Böðvarr Bjarki’s bear-form and battle-spirit. </li><li>Gisli’s Saga and Njáls Saga – dream-visions and the traveling hugr. </li><li>Rudolf Simek, Dictionary of Northern Mythology (1993). </li><li>H.R. Ellis Davidson, The Road to Hel (1943). </li><li>Neil Price, The Viking Way (2002). </li><li>Andy Orchard, Dictionary of Norse Myth and Legend (1997).</li></ul>

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The Fylgja: The Hidden Follower of the Soul

The Hamr and the Hugr: Shape and Mind in the Old Norse Soul