Tag: Fenrir the Wolf

Ragnarok: When one world ends and another begins

We are living in times of great upheaval where the pandemic has triggered the breakdown of our world as we knew it. Daily events can be described as ‘apocalyptic’ in the true sense of the world, for apocalypse literally means the disclosure or revelation of knowledge. In all areas of life from the political, institutional, social, spiritual, economic and ecological, corruption and inequality are coming to the surface, highlighting the flawed premise of separation on which our world view is based. We are drowning in lies and misinformation that fuel the fires of delusion and deception, but in these uncertain times, one thing is certain. Things are changing and the only choice we have is to embrace the chaos and begin to pick out of the wreckage the pieces worth saving and bring them with us into a new world of our making.

This is not the first time that humans have lived through apocalyptic times and our mythologies are replete with stories of breakdown, and breakthrough, that can serve as valuable navigational tools. None is more pertinent for our current situation than the Norse tale of Ragnarok, the Twilight of the Gods, originally told in an Icelandic poem dating back to the late tenth century. Just substitute certain humans into the role of the gods and the parallels are obvious, though the final interpretation will depend on your own viewpoint and perspective.

The word Ragnarok means ‘fatal destiny’, implying that the process of breakdown, though excruciating and often deadly, is also inevitable. The golden age of peace would have lasted if only the gods had kept their passions under control! But they could not. The world order, kept in place by oaths sworn in the presence of the powers of the earth herself, had been disregarded and abused. The gods of the Aesir had tortured the envoy from the Vanir (elder gods) in order to extract her gold, they broke their promise to the giants who had built their celestial dwelling, tricking them out of what they owed. Once they greedily broke their sacred promises, the fabric of their world began to unravel, ushering in an era of perjury, violence and warfare.

The Twilight of the Gods however, was long since predicted, for it was known that one day the giants and all those who had been banished to the subterranean regions would rise and overthrow the established order. Heimdall had been appointed to stand guard day and night by the rainbow bridge at the entrance to Asgard (the dwelling place of the gods). The giant wolf, Fenrir, had been bound in chains to stop him bringing about destruction and war, but the fateful day could only be put off, not averted for good.

Inevitably, it was a combination of factors that brought about Ragnarὄk, but of course the archetype of Trickster had to play a major role. Trickster is he who uses misinformation, manipulation, lies and tricks for his own end, but in so doing hold up to the mirror to us all and reveals those places where the shadow has taken control. In Norse mythology it is Loki who plays this part, and because of his own weakness and need to be everyone’s favourite, he committed a heinous crime.

Balder was the favourite of the gods, the son of Odin and Frigg, and was full of light and radiance. His mother loved him so much that she made everything on earth swear an oath never to harm her beautiful son. But his invincibility and popularity aroused the jealousy of Trickster, and Loki conspired not only to kill Balder but to ensure that the gods did not manage to bring him back from the Underworld through their otherworldly powers. His role in the death of their favourite was discovered and the gods bound him in chains, but this only strengthened his hatred and resolve. Though it would inevitably also bring about his own destruction, he broke his chains and joined the side of the demons and giants who hated the gods of the Aesir and were their sworn enemies.

Meanwhile, the situation on middle earth continued to deteriorate. An ancient giantess birthed a whole host of wolves, one of which chased the sun and swallowed it, bringing on hideous winters, storms, famine, pestilence and warfare. Brother slew brother, children no longer respected the ties of blood. Finally, the wolf Fenrir broke free of his chains, making the whole earth tremble and shaking the World Tree Yggdrasil from its roots to its topmost branches. Mountains crumbled and split and the entrances to the subterranean world of the dwarfs was cut off for good. The serpent Midgard stirred up giant waves from the depths of the oceans and the giants, roused from their place of banishment, arrived in ships from the north and the south. There was no turning back, for the shadow had been unleashed on a world that had long since sought to bury it. Heimdall sounded his horn signalling the beginning of Ragnarὄk, summoning the gods to meet with the armies of the giants on a field near Valhalla. It was to be a battle to the death.

In the midst of the fray was the god Odin with his golden helmet and holding his magical spear, Gungnir. He flew round the field like a hurricane, accompanied by the Valkyries on their dazzling chargers, and made for the wolf Fenrir with his sword raised. Alas, the wolf opened his massive jaws and swallowed the father of the gods! One by one they fell – Thor, Heimdall, Tyr, even Loki, all perished on the battlefield that day. Now that mankind had no protectors, they were driven from their hearths and swept off the face of the earth. Easily, just like that.

Then even the earth began to lose shape. Stars came adrift from the sky and fell into the void. Flames spurted from the fissures of rocks and there was the hissing of steam. All living things including plants were blotted out and the waters rose and boiled, covering over the earth and all traces of the place of the final battle. The world had ended. Ragnarὄk had played itself out.

But, gradually, in the midst of chaos and destruction came renewal. The world began to birth itself afresh and solid land emerged from the waves. Mountains rose up and the waters came under control, forming waterfalls and fountains and fertilising barren land so that the fecund green mantle gradually returned. Crops grew, and some animals returned, even a new sun appeared. And with it a new generation of gods. These gods had already been in existence but never shared in the passion and quarrels of the old gods, not committing perjury or violence or other crimes, and the radiant Balder was reborn. Hoenir, Odin’s faithful companion also survived, and he studied the runes and read the secrets of the future.

A small number of humans started to reappear. They had taken shelter in the branches of Yggdrasil, which the conflagration had been unable to consume. Throughout the apocalypse and days of destruction their only food had been the morning dew, the dew from the leaves of Yggdrasil that had once filled the valley with the memory of yesterday. This precious dew was collected by the Norn called Urd, one of the three sisters who tended the World Tree and wove the web of destiny that controlled life itself. In a daily ritual, she carefully poured the precious dew into her well, the Well of Memory, so that it may be used to grow the flowers of the present and assist them to reach out to the future.

If we carefully tend the World Tree and it’s well, taking nourishment from them both, then we too will return after the chaos has subsided. This time we might bring with us a host of new gods that are both within us and without, both imminent and woven into the fabric of the universe itself. Who do not commit perjury or wage warfare or other crimes, but listen to and uphold the rights of the earth, and in doing serve all life forms, both human and other than human.

References: The Larousse Encyclopedia of Mythology

Images: ‘Then the awful fight began’ by George Wright

‘Heimdall an der Himmelsbrucke’ by unknown

‘Loki’ by Arthur Rackham

January Wolf Moon: Fenrir, Freyja and her Necklace

January is named for the Roman two headed god, Janus, who looks both backwards to the ending of the old year and forward to new beginnings. In Celtic tree lore, it is the time ruled over by birch, the first tree in the forest to start producing leaves (B or Beith in the Ogham alphabet). Birch is self propagating and therefore highly adaptive and able to thrive in areas cleared by forest fires, making it associated with new beginnings. It was traditionally used to drive out the spirit of the Old Year, but this became distorted later when it was used to flog children.   It was used by druids as kindling to ignite fires, and silver birch is often associated with light bodies such as the sun, moon and the stars.

The January full moon is often called Wolf Moon. Wolves rule the midwinter nights and the image of the wolf howling during a full moon is probably the origin of the concept of the werewolf, a fearsome predator that feeds on blood. Though now more often linked to Native American tradition, the wolf is also a key animal in Celtic and Norse mythology. Solitary and shy, but able to survive in packs and hunt ferociously, the wolf was often associated with death and sometimes destruction, but with the understanding that clearing away the old is a necessary step in the process of renewal. It was a companion of the Welsh goddess Ceridwen, one of the sacred guardians of Britain, and one of the four sacred animals of the Celtic Brigid,[1] all of which demonstrate the importance of wolf to the ancient British landscape.

It is in Norse mythology, however, where wolf has its most intriguing role. Fenrir the wolf was the feared offspring of the frost giantess and trickster Loki who grew to such a huge size that he had to be bound in chains to prevent the prophesied destruction of the world, Ragnarok. Eventually, when the time was nigh, he broke free of the magical chains made by the elves themselves, swallowing the god Odin whole in the drama known as the twilight of the gods. Fenrir was the father in turn of another wolf who chased the sun until finally ‘taking possession of it.’ Not only did the sun disappear from view, but the world was engulfed in a hideous winter of freezing and bloodshed as a result, so there is a possible association here between the wolf and celestial phenomena such as eclipses, comets or meteor impacts, a harbinger of destruction, even a deliver of it.

 The 10th January, the date of this year’s full Wolf Moon, is also the birthday of the Norse goddess Freyja. As mistress of the runes, prophetic vision, and magick, she was once one of the most important figures in the Norse pantheon, and certainly one of the oldest.  Originally a Mistress of the Wild Animals, she is often seen in a chariot pulled by cats or riding a wild boar. Later, like Inanna in the Middle East, she became the typical goddess of sex and war, and as (possible) leader of the Valkyries, prowled the battlefields with Odin, choosing half of all slain warriors to take to her great hall.  

One of her most striking attributes was a cloak of falcon feathers which enabled her to shapeshift into a bird and take astral flight. Shamanistic and extremely ancient in origin, this type of magical ability was known as seidr and said to be gifted by Freyja herself. Indeed, even Odin had to come to her to learn the art of reading the runes showing that she once had precedence over him.

As mistress of prophet visionary and shape shifting, Freyja would have had mastery over the four primal elements Earth, air, fire and water, and therefore alchemical knowledge of how to work with the treasures of the Earth. This knowledge is encoded into the story of how Freyja obtained her famous necklace, Brisingsamen. Here my version of the story:

One winters night, Freya lay dreaming in her bed of fur. She saw the ancient ash tree that stood at the centre of the Nine Worlds and it was spangled in a web of light that shone like diamonds. Yearning to be there, she stepped out of bed and pulling on her cloak made of the softest and lightest of falcon feathers, she flew towards the tree. There she alighted on a branch and traveled down the solid trunk and down into the roots that burrowed towards the heart of the Earth. As she journeyed, she could hear strange notes given out by the rhythmic clanging of a hammer and she followed the sound until she ended up in a candle-lit chamber. Four dwarfs were busy at work, one hammering sheets of gold, one pulling it into long wires, and the other two cutting and polishing stones of every colour and hue until their light radiated out onto the walls of the cave, causing it to sparkle like the night sky.

Freya stepped towards them and saw they were making a necklace, the most beautiful and powerful necklace she had ever seen, and she longed to possess it. She pleaded with the dwarfs, offering them riches and gold in exchange, but they already had mastery of all the treasures in the seams of the Earth and needed no more. What they did, want, however, was for each of them in turn to spend a night with the beautiful goddess. Freyja agreed and stayed with them to learn the magical arts of alchemical transformation taught by the dwarves, who was a master of each element. This was how she came to be in possession of Brisingamen, the necklace that shone bright as the Milky Way.

The story as handed down to us is patchy, and for many it is purely sexual in nature, the goddess sleeping with each of the dwarves in turn to obtain the treasure. Strangely, the necklace is also not a magical object per se and has none of the attributes or named powers as for example Odin’s ring or Thor’s hammer. Yet to Freyja the necklace is of prime importance so much so that she is prepared to do anything to retain it, and there is a disturbing end to the story.

Odin saw that Freyja had obtained the necklace, and how, and was apparently angry, even outraged. He ordered the trickster Loki to steal it from the sleeping goddess and bring it to him forthwith. Freyja soon realised her necklace was gone, and who had taken it, and came to confront Odin. Apparently, with very little persuasion, she struck with him a dark bargain in order to secure its’ return: she was to incite war between two kings and their great armies, then revive them on the battlefield so that they might rise up and fight again.

The reason for this request is not explained and could be interpreted simply as a moral warning against coveting material possession, or even against sexual promiscuity, both of which could bring unwanted consequences. But there could also be something more behind this rather intriguing story. The necklace could represent some sort of primal power, and one that is linked to the stars of the Milky Way, it could symbolise secret and eternally powerful knowledge that has been lost in the mists of time. The silver birch with its association with light bodies, the wolf with its cosmic symbolism and Freya’s starry necklace all demonstrate that the stars of the Milky Way were much for central in the psyche of our ancestors than it is in today’s light polluted world, and the long dark nights of the North would have been the perfect place to view it. Furthermore, the wolf myths also hint at a cataclysmic event that led to Ragnarok, the destruction of everything including the gods, when an old order broke down in order to make way for a new. And in this it is tempting to see parallels with today’s world with the lunar eclipse and important conjunctions around this January full Wolf Moon.

[1] See www.exemplore.com for more details