Seidr II

Seiðr II

Certain aspects of Seidr were sexual in nature, leading Neil Price to argue that it was very likely that seidr actually involved sexual acts. Various scholars have argued that the staff used by seidr practitioners may have been used as an imitation penis. As evidence, they have highlighted the fact that the staffs have phallic epithets in various Icelandic sagas.

Mythology

Oðinn and Seiðr

British archaeologist Neil Price noted that 'the realm of sorcery' was present in Oðinn's many aspects.

In 'Lokasenna', Loki accuses Odin of practising seid, condemning it as an unmanly art. A justification for this may be found in the 'Ynglinga saga' where Snorri opines that following the practice of seid rendered the practitioner weak and helpless.

One possible example of seid in Norse mythology is the prophetic vision given to Odin in the 'Völuspá' by the 'völva', 'vala' or seeress, after whom the poem is named. Her vision is not connected explicitly with 'seiðr'; however, the word occurs in the poem in relation to a character called Heiðr (who is traditionally associated with Freyja but may be identical with the völva). The interrelationship between the 'völva' in this account and the Norns, the fates of Norse lore, is strong and striking.

Another noted mythological practitioner of 'seiðr' was the witch Groa, who attempted to assist Thor, and who is summoned from beyond the grave in the Svipdagsmál.

Freyja and Seiðr

Like Oðinn, the Norse goddess Freyja is also associated with 'seiðr' in the surviving literature. In the 'Ynglingasaga' (c.1225), written by Icelandic poet Snorri Sturluson, it is stated that 'seiðr' had originally been a practice among the Vanir clan of gods, but that Freyja, who was herself a member of the Vanir, had introduced it to the Æsir clan when she joined them.

The goddess Freyja is identified in 'Ynglinga saga' as an adept of the mysteries of seid, and it is said that it was she who taught it to Odin: 'Dóttir Njarðar var Freyja. Hon var blótgyðja. Hon kenndi fyrst með Ásum seið, sem Vönum var títt' ('Njörðr’s daughter was Freyja. She presided over the sacrifice. It was she who first acquainted the Æsir with 'seiðr', which was customary among the Vanir').

Old Norse literature

In the Viking Age, the practice of seid by men had connotations of unmanliness or effeminacy, known as 'ergi', as its manipulative aspects ran counter to the male ideal of forthright, open behaviour. Freyja and perhaps some of the other goddesses of Norse mythology were seid practitioners, as was Odin, a fact for which he is taunted by Loki in the 'Lokasenna'.

Sagas

Eric the Red

In the 13th century 'Saga of Eric the Red', there was a seiðkona or 'völva' in Greenland named Thorbjorg ('protected by Thor'). She wore a blue cloak and a headpiece of black lamb trimmed with white cat skin, carried the symbolic distaff ('seiðstafr'), which was often buried with her, and would sit on a high platform. As related in the Saga:

En er hon kom um kveldit ok sá maðr, er móti henni var sendr, þá var hon svá búin, at hon hafði yfir sér tuglamöttul blán, ok var settr steinum allt í skaut ofan. Hon hafði á hálsi sér glertölur, lambskinnskofra svartan á höfði ok við innan kattarskinn hvít. Ok hon hafði staf í hendi, ok var á knappr. Hann var búinn með messingu ok settr steinum ofan um knappinn. Hon hafði um sik hnjóskulinda, ok var þar á skjóðupungr mikill, ok varðveitti hon þar í töfr sín, þau er hon þurfti til fróðleiks at hafa. Hon hafði á fótum kálfskinnsskúa loðna ok í þvengi langa ok á tinknappar miklir á endunum. Hon hafði á höndum sér kattskinnsglófa, ok váru hvítir innan ok loðnir.

Now, when she came in the evening, accompanied by the man who had been sent to meet her, she was dressed in such wise that she had a blue mantle over her, with strings for the neck, and it was inlaid with gems quite down to the skirt. On her neck she had glass beads. On her head she had a black hood of lambskin, lined with ermine. A staff she had in her hand, with a knob thereon; it was ornamented with brass, and inlaid with gems round about the knob. Around her she wore a girdle of soft hair, and therein was a large skin-bag, in which she kept the talismans needful to her in her wisdom. She wore hairy calf-skin shoes on her feet, with long and strong-looking thongs to them, and great knobs of latten at the ends. On her hands she had gloves of ermine-skin, and they were white and hairy within.

Other sagas

As described by Snorri Sturluson in his 'Ynglinga saga' (sec. 7), seid includes both divination and manipulative magic. It seems likely that the type of divination practised by seid was generally distinct, by dint of an altogether more metaphysical nature, from the day-to-day auguries performed by the seers ('menn framsýnir', 'menn forspáir').

In 'Örvar-Odd's Saga', however, the cloak is black, yet the seiðkona also carries the distaff (which allegedly has the power of causing forgetfulness in one who is tapped three times on the cheek by it).

Havamal - The speech of the high one

Havamal

The speech of the high one

From the old Norse – The Poetic Edda

Young and alone on a long road,
Once I lost my way:
Rich I felt when I found another;
Man rejoices in man,

A kind word need not cost much,
The price of praise can be cheap:
With half a loaf and an empty cup
I found myself a friend,

Two wooden stakes stood on the plain,
On them I hung my clothes:
Draped in linen, they looked well born,
But, naked, I was a nobody

Too early to many homes I came,
Too late, it seemed, to some:
The ale was finished or else un-brewed,
The unpopular cannot please,

Some would invite me to visit their homes,
But none thought I needed a meal,
As though I had eaten a whole joint,
Just before with a friend who had two

The man who stands at a strange threshold,
Should be cautious before he cross it,
Glance this way and that:
Who knows beforehand what foes may sit
Awaiting him in the hall?

Greetings to the host,
The guest has arrived,
In which seat shall he sit?
Rash is he who at unknown doors
Relies on his good luck,

Fire is needed by the newcomer
Whose knees are frozen numb;
Meat and clean linen a man needs
Who has fared across the fells,

Water, too, that he may wash before eating,
Handcloth's and a hearty welcome,
Courteous words, then courteous silence
That he may tell his tale,

Who travels widely needs his wits about him,
The stupid should stay at home:
The ignorant man is often laughed at
When he sits at meat with the sage,

Of his knowledge a man should never boast,
Rather be sparing of speech
When to his house a wiser comes:
Seldom do those who are silent Make mistakes;
mother wit Is ever a faithful friend,

A guest should be courteous
When he comes to the table
And sit in wary silence,
His ears attentive,
his eyes alert:
So he protects himself,

Fortunate is he who is favoured in his lifetime
With praise and words of wisdom:
Evil counsel is often given
By those of evil heart,

Blessed is he who in his own lifetime
Is awarded praise and wit,
For ill counsel is often given
By mortal men to each other,

Better gear than good sense
A traveller cannot carry,
Better than riches for a wretched man,
Far from his own home,

Better gear than good sense
A traveller cannot carry,
A more tedious burden than too much drink
A traveller cannot carry,

Less good than belief would have it
Is mead for the sons of men:
A man knows less the more he drinks,
Becomes a befuddled fool,

I-forget is the name men give the heron
Who hovers over the fast:
Fettered I was in his feathers that night,
When a guest in Gunnlod's court

Drunk I got, dead drunk,
When Fjalar the wise was with me:
Best is the banquet one looks back on after,
And remembers all that happened,

Silence becomes the Son of a prince,
To be silent but brave in battle:
It befits a man to be merry and glad
Until the day of his death,

The coward believes he will live forever
If he holds back in the battle,
But in old age he shall have no peace
Though spears have spared his limbs

When he meets friends, the fool gapes,
Is shy and sheepish at first,
Then he sips his mead and immediately
All know what an oaf he is,
He who has seen and suffered much,
And knows the ways of the world,
Who has travelled', can tell what spirit
Governs the men he meets,
Drink your mead, but in moderation,
Talk sense or be silent:
No man is called discourteous who goes
To bed at an early hour

A gluttonous man who guzzles away
Brings sorrow on himself:
At the table of the wise he is taunted often,
Mocked for his bloated belly,

The herd knows its homing time,
And leaves the grazing ground:
But the glutton never knows how much
His belly is able to hold,

An ill tempered, unhappy man
Ridicules all he hears,
Makes fun of others, refusing always
To see the faults in himself

Foolish is he who frets at night,
And lies awake to worry'
A weary man when morning comes,
He finds all as bad as before,

The fool thinks that those who laugh
At him are all his friends,
Unaware when he sits with wiser men
How ill they speak of him.

The fool thinks that those who laugh
At him are all his friends:
When he comes to the Thing and calls for support,
Few spokesmen he finds

The fool who fancies he is full of wisdom
While he sits by his hearth at home.
Quickly finds when questioned by others .
That he knows nothing at all.

The ignorant booby had best be silent
When he moves among other men,
No one will know what a nit-wit he is
Until he begins to talk;
No one knows less what a nit-wit he is
Than the man who talks too much.

To ask well, to answer rightly,
Are the marks of a wise man:
Men must speak of men's deeds,
What happens may not be hidden.

Wise is he not who is never silent,
Mouthing meaningless words:
A glib tongue that goes on chattering
Sings to its own harm.

A man among friends should not mock another:
Many believe the man
Who is not questioned to know much
And so he escapes their scorn.
An early meal a man should take
Before he visits friends,
Lest, when he gets there,
he go hungry,
Afraid to ask for food.

The fastest friends may fall out
When they sit at the banquet-board:
It is, and shall be, a shameful thing
When guest quarrels with guest,

The wise guest has his way of dealing
With those who taunt him at table:
He smiles through the meal,
not seeming to hear
The twaddle talked by his foes.

The tactful guest will take his leave Early,
not linger long:
He starts to stink who outstays his welcome
In a hall that is not his own.

A small hut of one' s own is better,
A man is his master at home:
A couple of goats and a corded roof
Still are better than begging.

A small hut of one's own is better,
A man is his master at home:
His heart bleeds in the beggar who must
Ask at each meal for meat.

A wayfarer should not walk unarmed,
But have his weapons to hand:
He knows not when he may need a spear,
Or what menace meet on the road.

No man is so generous he will jib at accepting
A gift in return for a gift,
No man so rich that it really gives him
Pain to be repaid.

Once he has won wealth enough,
A man should not crave for more:
What he saves for friends, foes may take;
Hopes are often liars.

With presents friends should please each other,

With a shield or a costly coat:

Mutual giving makes for friendship,

So long as life goes well,

A man should be loyal through life to friends,

To them and to friends of theirs,

But never shall a man make offer

Of friendship to his foes.

A man should be loyal through life to friends,

And return gift for gift,

Laugh when they laugh,

but with lies repay

A false foe who lies.

If you find a friend you fully trust

And wish for his good-will,

exchange thoughts,

exchange gifts,

Go often to his house.

If you deal with another you don't trust

But wish for his good-will,

Be fair in speech but false in thought

And give him lie for lie.

Even with one you ill-trust

And doubt what he means to do,

False words with fair smiles

May get you the gift you desire.

To a false friend the footpath winds

Though his house be on the highway.

To a sure friend there is a short cut,

Though he live a long way off.

Hotter than fire among false hearts burns

Friendship for five days,

But suddenly slackens when the sixth dawns:

Feeble their friendship then.

The generous and bold have the best lives,

Are seldom beset by cares, ,

But the base man sees bogies everywhere

And the miser pines for presents.

The young fir that falls and rots

Having neither needles nor bark,

So is the fate of the friendless man:

Why should he live long?

Little a sand-grain, little a dew drop,

Little the minds of men:

A11 men are not equal in wisdom,

The half-wise are everywhere

It is best for man to be middle-wise,

Not over cunning and clever:

The fairest life is led by those

Who are deft at all they do.

It is best for man to be middle-wise,

Not over cunning and clever:

No man is able to know his future,

So let him sleep in peace.

It is best for man to be middle-wise,

Not over cunning and clever:

The learned man whose lore is deep

Is seldom happy at heart.

Brand kindles brand till they burn out,

Flame is quickened by flame:

One man from another is known by his speech

The simpleton by his silence.

Early shall he rise who has designs

On anothers land or life:

His prey escapes the prone wolf,

The sleeper is seldom victorious.

Early shall he rise who rules few servants,

And set to work at once:

Much is lost by the late sleeper,

Wealth is won by the swift,

A man should know how many logs

And strips of bark from the birch

To stock in autumn, that he may have enough

Wood for his winter fires.

Washed and fed,

one may fare to the Thing:

Though one's clothes be the worse for Wear,

None need be ashamed of his shoes or hose,

Nor of the horse he owns,

Although no thoroughbred.

As the eagle who comes to the ocean shore,

Sniffs and hangs her head,

Dumfounded is he who finds at the Thing

No supporters to plead his case.

It is safe to tell a secret to one,

Risky to tell it to two,

To tell it to three is thoughtless folly,

Everyone else will know.

Often words uttered to another

Have reaped an ill harvest:

Two beat one, the tongue is head's bane,

Pockets of fur hide fists.

Moderate at council should a man be,

Not brutal and over bearing:

Among the bold the bully will find

Others as bold as he.

These things are thought the best:

Fire, the sight of the sun,

Good health with the gift to keep it,

And a life that avoids vice.

Not all sick men are utterly wretched:

Some are blessed with sons,

Some with friends,

some with riches,

Some with worthy works.

The halt can manage a horse,

the handless a flock,

The deaf be a doughty fighter,

To be blind is better than to burn on a pyre:

There is nothing the dead can do.

It is always better to be alive,

The living can keep a cow.

Fire, I saw, warming a wealthy man,

With a cold corpse at his door.

A son is a blessing, though born late

To a father no longer alive:

Stones would seldom stand by the highway

If sons did not set them there.

He welcomes the night who has enough provisions

Short are the sails of a ship,

Dangerous the dark in autumn,

The wind may veer within five days,

And many times in a month.

The half wit does not know that gold

Makes apes of many men:

One is rich, one is poor­

There is no blame in that.

Cattle die, kindred die,

Every man is mortal:

But the good name never dies

Of one who has done well

Cattle die, kindred die,

Every man is mortal:

But I know one thing that never dies,

The glory of the great dead

Fields and flocks had Fitjung's sons,

Who now carry begging bowls:

Wealth may vanish in the wink of an eye,

Gold is the falsest of friends.

In the fool who acquires cattle and lands,

Or wins a woman's love,

His wisdom wanes with his waxing pride,

He sinks from sense to conceit.

Now is answered what you ask of the runes,

Graven by the gods,

Made by the All Father,

Sent by the powerful sage:

lt. is best for man to remain silent.

For these things give thanks at nightfall:

The day gone, a guttered torch,

A sword tested, the troth of a maid,

Ice crossed, ale drunk.

Hew wood in wind-time,

in fine weather sail,

Tell in the night-time tales to house-girls,

For too many eyes are open by day:

From a ship expect speed, from a shield, cover,

Keenness from a sword,

but a kiss from a girl.

Drink ale by the hearth, over ice glide,

Buy a stained sword, buy a starving mare

To fatten at home: and fatten the watch-dog.

Trust not an acre early sown,

Nor praise a son too soon:

Weather rules the acre, wit the son,

Both are exposed to peril,

A snapping bow, a burning flame,

A grinning wolf, a grunting boar,

A raucous crow, a rootless tree,

A breaking wave, a boiling kettle,

A flying arrow, an ebbing tide,

A coiled adder, the ice of a night,

A bride's bed talk, a broad sword,

A bear's play, a prince' s children,

A witch' s welcome, the wit of a slave,

A sick calf, a corpse still fresh,

A brother's killer encountered upon

The highway a house half-burned,

A racing stallion who has wrenched a leg,

Are never safe: let no man trust them.

No man should trust a maiden's words,

Nor what a woman speaks:

Spun on a wheel were women's hearts,

In their breasts was implanted caprice,

To love a woman whose ways are false

Is like sledding over slippery ice

With unshod horses out of control,

Badly trained two-year-olds,

Or drifting rudderless on a rough sea,

Or catching a reindeer with a crippled hand

On a thawing hillside: think not to do it.

Naked I may speak now for I know both:
Men are treacherous too
Fairest we speak when falsest we think:
many a maid is deceived.

Gallantly shall he speak and gifts bring
Who wishes for woman's love:
praise the features of the fair girl,
Who courts well will conquer.

Never reproach another for his love:
It happens often enough
That beauty ensnares with desire the wise
While the foolish remain unmoved.

Never reproach the plight of another,
For it happens to many men:
Strong desire may stupefy heroes,
Dull the wits of the wise

The mind alone knows what is near the heart,
Each is his own judge:
The worst sickness for a wise man
Is to crave what he cannot enjoy.

So I learned when I sat in the reeds,
Hoping to have my desire:
Lovely was the flesh of that fair girl,
But nothing I hoped for happened.

I saw on a bed Billing's daughter,
Sun white, asleep:
No greater delight I longed for then
Than to lie in her lovely arms.

"Come" Odhinn, after nightfall
If you wish for a meeting with me:
All would be lost if anyone saw us
And learned that we were lovers."

Afire with longing" I left her then,
Deceived by her soft words:
I thought my wooing had won the maid,
That I would have my way.

After nightfall I hurried back,
But the warriors were all awake,
Lights were burning, blazing torches:
So false proved the path

Towards daybreak back I came
The guards were sound asleep:
I found then that the fair woman
Had tied a bitch to her bed.

Many a girl when one gets to know her
Proves to be fickle and false:
That treacherous maiden taught me a lesson,
The crafty woman covered me with shame"
That was all I got from her.

Let a man with his guests be glad and merry,
Modest a man should be"
But talk well if he intends to be wise
And expects praise from men:
Fimbul fambi is the fool called "
Unable to open his mouth.
Fruitless my errand, had I been silent
When I came to Suttung's courts:
With spirited words I spoke to my profit
In the hall of the aged giant.

Rati had gnawed a narrow passage,
Chewed a channel through stone,
A path around the roads of giants:
I was like to lose my head

Gunnlod sat me in the golden seat,
Poured me precious mead:
Ill reward she had from me for that,
For her proud and passionate heart,
Her brooding foreboding spirit.

What I won from her I have well used:
I have waxed in wisdom since I came back,
bringing to Asgard Odrerir,
the sacred draught.

Hardly would I have come home alive
From the garth of the grim troll,
Had Gunnlod not helped me, the good woman,
Who wrapped her arms around me.

The following day the Frost Giants came,
Walked into Har's hall To ask for Har's advice:
Had Bolverk they asked, come back to his friends,
Or had he been slain by Suttung?

Odhinn, they said, swore an oath on his ring:
Who from now on will trust him?
By fraud at the feast he befuddled Suttung
And brought grief to Gunnlod.

It is time to sing in the seat of the wise,
Of what at Urd's Well I saw in silence,
saw and thought on.
Long I listened to men
Runes heard spoken, (counsels revealed.)
At Har's hall, In Har's hall:
There I heard this.

Loddfafnir, listen to my counsel:
You will fare well if you follow it,
It will help you much if you heed it.

Never rise at night unless you need to spy
Or to ease yourself in the outhouse.

Shun a woman, wise in magic,
Her bed and her embraces:
If she cast a spell, you will care no longer
To meet and speak with men,
Desire no food, desire no pleasure,
In sorrow fall asleep.

Never seduce anothers wife,
Never make her your mistress.

If you must journey to mountains and firths,
Take food and fodder with you.

Never open your heart to an evil man
When fortune does not favour you:
From an evil man, if you make him your friend,
You will get evil for good.

I saw a warrior wounded fatally
By the words of an evil woman
Her cunning tongue caused his death,
Though what she alleged was a lie.

If you know a friend you can fully trust,
Go often to his house
Grass and brambles grow quickly
Upon the untrodden track.

With a good man it is good to talk,
Make him your fast friend:
But waste no words on a witless oaf,
Nor sit with a senseless ape.

Cherish those near you, never be
The first to break with a friend:
Care eats him who can no longer
Open his heart to another.

An evil man, if you make him your friend,
Will give you evil for good:
A good man, if you make him your friend"
Will praise you in every place,

Affection is mutual when men can open
All their heart to each other:
He whose words are always fair
Is untrue and not to be trusted.

Bandy no speech with a bad man:
Often the better is beaten
In a word fight by the worse.

Be not a cobbler nor a carver of shafts,
Except it be for yourself:
If a shoe fit ill or a shaft be crooked"
The maker gets curses and kicks.

If aware that another is wicked, say so:
Make no truce or treaty with foes.

Never share in the shamefully gotten,
But allow yourself what is lawful.

Never lift your eyes and look up in battle,
Lest the heroes enchant you,
who can change warriors
Suddenly into hogs,
With a good woman, if you wish to enjoy
Her words and her good will,
Pledge her fairly and be faithful to it:
Enjoy the good you are given,

Be not over wary, but wary enough,
First, of the foaming ale,
Second, of a woman wed to another,
Third, of the tricks of thieves.

Mock not the traveller met On the road,
Nor maliciously laugh at the guest:
Scoff not at guests nor to the gate chase them,
But relieve the lonely and wretched,

The sitters in the hall seldom know
The kin of the new-comer:
The best man is marred by faults,
The worst is not without worth.

Never laugh at the old when they offer counsel,
Often their words are wise:
From shrivelled skin, from scraggy things
That hand among the hides
And move amid the guts,
Clear words often come.

Heavy the beam above the door;
Hang a horse-shoe On it
Against ill-luck, lest it should suddenly
Crash and crush your guests.

Medicines exist against many evils:
Earth against drunkenness, heather against worms
Oak against costiveness, corn against sorcery,
Spurred rye against rupture, runes against bales
The moon against feuds, fire against sickness,
Earth makes harmless the floods.

Wounded I hung on a wind-swept gallows
For nine long nights,
Pierced by a spear, pledged to Odhinn,
Offered, myself to myself
The wisest know not from whence spring
The roots of that ancient rood

They gave me no bread,
They gave me no mead,
I looked down;
with a loud cry
I took up runes;
from that tree I fell.

Nine lays of power
I learned from the famous Bolthor, Bestla' s father:
He poured me a draught of precious mead,
Mixed with magic Odrerir.

Waxed and throve well;
Word from word gave words to me,
Deed from deed gave deeds to me,

Runes you will find, and readable staves,
Very strong staves,
Very stout staves,
Staves that Bolthor stained,
Made by mighty powers,
Graven by the prophetic god,

For the gods by Odhinn, for the elves by Dain,
By Dvalin, too, for the dwarves,
By Asvid for the hateful giants,
And some I carved myself:
Thund, before man was made, scratched them,
Who rose first, fell thereafter

Know how to cut them, know how to read them,
Know how to stain them, know how to prove them,
Know how to evoke them, know how to score them,
Know how to send them" know how to send them,

Better not to ask than to over-pledge
As a gift that demands a gift"
Better not to send than to slay too many,

The first charm I know is unknown to rulers
Or any of human kind;
Help it is named,
for help it can give In hours of sorrow and anguish.

I know a second that the sons of men
Must learn who wish to be leeches.

I know a third: in the thick of battle,
If my need be great enough,
It will blunt the edges of enemy swords,
Their weapons will make no wounds.

I know a fourth:
it will free me quickly
If foes should bind me fast
With strong chains, a chant that makes Fetters spring from the feet,
Bonds burst from the hands.

I know a fifth: no flying arrow,
Aimed to bring harm to men,
Flies too fast for my fingers to catch it
And hold it in mid-air.

I know a sixth:
it will save me if a man
Cut runes on a sapling' s Roots
With intent to harm; it turns the spell;
The hater is harmed, not me.

If I see the hall
Ablaze around my bench mates,
Though hot the flames, they shall feel nothing,
If I choose to chant the spell.

I know an eighth:
that all are glad of,
Most useful to men:
If hate fester in the heart of a warrior,
It will soon calm and cure him.

I know a ninth:
when need I have
To shelter my ship on the flood,
The wind it calms, the waves it smoothes
And puts the sea to sleep,

I know a tenth:
if troublesome ghosts
Ride the rafters aloft,
I can work it so they wander astray,
Unable to find their forms,
Unable to find their homes.

I know an eleventh:
when I lead to battle Old comrades in-arms,
I have only to chant it behind my shield,
And unwounded they go to war,
Unwounded they come from war,
U unscathed wherever they are.

I know a twelfth:
If a tree bear
A man hanged in a halter,
I can carve and stain strong runes
That will cause the corpse to speak,
Reply to whatever I ask.

I know a thirteenth
if I throw a cup Of water over a warrior,
He shall not fall in the fiercest battle,
Nor sink beneath the sword,

I know a fourteenth, that few know:
If I tell a troop of warriors
About the high ones, elves and gods,
I can name them one by one.
(Few can the nit-wit name.)

I know a fifteenth,
that first Thjodrerir
Sang before Delling's doors,
Giving power to gods, prowess to elves,
Fore-sight to Hroptatyr Odhinn,

I know a sixteenth:
if I see a girl
With whom it would please me to play,
I can turn her thoughts, can touch the heart
Of any white armed woman.

I know a seventeenth:
if I sing it,
the young Girl will be slow to forsake me.

I know an eighteenth that I never tell
To maiden or wife of man,
A secret I hide from all
Except the love who lies in my arms,
Or else my own sister.

To learn to sing them, Loddfafnir,
Will take you a long time,
Though helpful they are if you understand them,
Useful if you use them,
Needful if you need them.

The Wise One has spoken words in the hall,
Needful for men to know,
Unneedful for trolls to know:

Hail to the speaker,
Hail to the knower,
Joy to him who has understood,
Delight to those who have listened.

Seiðr

Seiðr I

Seiðr (which is sometimes anglicized as seidhr, seidh, seidr, seithr, or seith) is an Old Norse term for a type of sorcery which was practised in Norse society during the Late Scandinavian Iron Age.

Much speculation but little fact has been written of Seidr craft or trance magic of the ancient Nors. Trance Magic is a misleading term and should be placed in its proper perspective. There are many who claim that the shapeshifting ability of the ancients was no more or less than visions that took place during unconscious or "trance" states. This attitude should be discounted as a lack of understanding of the principles involved.

Trance is only the first of the states required for learning to effect a "sending". The trance condition is necessary for novice volva or vitki  in order to learn effective use of Seidr magic but it isn't the whole of the craft.  Blocking out "real world" distractions is a paramount skill. Without it little can be accomplished in the shadow realms. It is useful to clear the mind and enhance the shaman's ability to focus and visualize the desired conditions.  Ideally, the practitioner should be able to achieve a trance state by will alone.  To attain the mental dispelling necessary for this feat sometimes requires years of practice.  However, with the judicious use of certain techniques most novices can develop a basic trance state within weeks of beginning their training.  The techniques include repetitive sound, visual focus devices and a variety of herbal substances.  A few of the less dangerous techniques are included here.

     As with all disciplines Seidr magic has many levels of expertise. In the most basic level the practitioner is able to project images into the minds of susceptible individuals that are interpreted first as dreams and later as real events. In more advanced students the projected image takes on a physical reality and in the adept can become a true reality.   The substance of our world and the extradimensional worlds that surround it are more or less mutable.   That is, we can by focusing will, cause both apparent and real changes in the fabric of our existence.  Most practitioners begin with little or no ability to shape or shapeshift.   Their arena is limited to the space inside their minds.    Now, that is a wide space indeed, but nothing when  the true vastness of reality is considered.  The true art of Seidr lies in the ability to create shapes in your head and impress them on the outside world. 

Seiðr - the old Nordic form of shamanism

article by Annette Host

Traditionally, the practitioners of seiðr used a unique combination of staff and ecstatic song as means for the soul to journey. Seiðr is described in late Viking age sources, but origins much earlier in fertility cult and early shamanism.

The mystical core of seiðr is inseparable from the wild nature. Therefore a key part of our work is connecting our practice with the power of the land: “Sitting out” alone with our staff between hills and trees, the songs of earth and wind will blend with our own songs, and dusk and darkness will teach us to see. In this way our seiðr takes takes root in our own landscape and time.

One of the greatest gifts the ancient seiðr tradition has to offer practitioners of today is a skillful way of dealing with power, expressed in the Norse term ergi, with hints of parallels to tantra.Seiðr can profoundly inspire our shamanic work, we become freer to choose the right ritual tool for the right task, and we deepen our experience of the power of earth.

Seiðr - the written sources

The old written sources about seiðr are found in the Edda and the sagas, and often it is not at all clear if they describe myth or this reality or both. Some key points in the seiðr practise are never mentioned, and the descriptions are often heavily biased. I will briefly introduce here the bare bones of seiðr, enough for a basic understanding.

In its blooming days, a thousand years ago and more, the Northern shamanic tradition of seiðr was practised mostly by women, called volvas, seiðr-wives, sp -wives, or wise women. The volva is often described as being past her fertile years, and unlike other women she has no clan- or lineage-name. The seiðr has its roots in the fertility cult around the goddess Freya, and the ceremonial form of a seiðr seance is quite unique. The volva does her shamanic work sitting with her staff on a highseat, or platform, a seiðrhiallr. The staff is important, but it is never said what for. The volva is surrounded by a circle of people, who sing the seiðr songs, the spirit-calling songs, the magic chants, but no chants are written down. It is this ecstatic song which changes her state of consciousness, carries her into trance on a journey. When the song ends, and the volva is still suspended between the worlds, she is in a state to prophesy, to divine, to answer questions about future and fate, receiving her knowledge from the spirit realm. 

Seiðr has been used mainly for divination, but in some accounts the volva's close link to Freya and the powers of fertility shines clearly through: In the story of Thorbi"rg Lillvolva, the volva is called because of the famine and the barrenness of the land. In Landn mab¢k another volva gets named "Filler of the Sound" because she made the herring return to a fjord they had disappeared from. The seiðr is thus used to bring plenty, to restore balance between people and nature. 

In some accounts seiðr is used for harmful magic, to send somebody illness or misfortune. Here we must remember that the literature is very biased, written by christian sholars often opposed to this heathen practise. But of course the seiðr practitioners have been faced with the same fundamental ethical choice between using or abusing power as shamans are everywhere. What we can read between the lines is: If one can send harm, one can also send healing. In short, seiðr can be used to gather and send power.

The song

The seiðr song as portrayed in the literature is unmistakably shamanic and has shown me a lot about magic singing in general. Song and chanting has been a dimension in shamanic practise always and everywhere, and song shows up all by itself for anyone who starts on the path of shamanism. 

It is said that the seiðrsong was ecstatic song. To me ecstasy means a state where you have let go so much of ego, control, and convention that the power of the universe flushes through you unhindered. And that is the first trait of shamanic singing: that you sing from a source that is bigger than yourself, and let power flow through you as song. In other words, the song is sung in an altered state of awareness, or in trance. And when we start to sing like that, we can experience a marvellous shift in our voice, our breathing and endurance, the power and effect of our utterance. The song sings us. 

There is a second trait of the ecstatic song that makes it shamanic: the song has a definite purpose. We sing open the doors to the otherworld. We sing out to our spirithelpers, so they may know we're calling them. We sing to a tree to honour its beautiful power. We sing the invisible threads between us and our spirithelpers stronger. We sing a mound open, so we can talk with our ancestors. We sing pains and spirits of illness away. We sing thanks to the plants we harvest. 

This gets us to the third trait. Shamanic songs or chants are not composed or constructed. They are found, heard, gotten, when we are in-spired. They arrive, arise, unfold. And then they burst from me, when I am full, full, and cannot contain them any longer. The songs visit us. Sometimes they stay with us for a long time, sometimes they leave again fast. Sometimes they have words, sometimes just sounds.

One of the first verses in Finlands great magic song cycle "The Kalevala" expresses beautifully where the 

magic songs live, where the source of power is: 

"The Cold offered me Lays out there
The Rain sent me often Songs
Other Ballads the Wind brought me
The Waves carried them to the Shore
Birds shaped Words into Tones
Talking sounded from the Crowns of Trees." 

The spiritual roots of the seiðr

The fertility deities Frey and Freya were members of a clan of gods and spirits called the Vanir. The earth centered Vanir-religion is a spirituality of peace and plenty, including sexuality and magic in the sacred realm. It is much closer to animism and non-duality than the later Viking gods, the Aesir, where the most well known are Odin, Thor, Balder. The Vanir goddesses and gods of fertility are inseparable from a vast omnipresent population of nature spirits, powers of fruitfulness, and elemental forces.

People of that time were always aware of these beings. They were in daily communication and exchanged help with their spirit neighbours, to ensure that both the land, the spirits and humans would prosper. This is the spiritual foundation of the seiðr, and obviously the volva works within an intimate relationship with nature: It is from there she draws her power. Thus the volva represents the world view of this older, fertility and earth oriented spirituality, and this shows in her seiðr. 

The saga accounts often depict a conflict between the old volva and a young man representing the newer, militant Viking culture. The written sources testify that the men of the Viking age, even before Christianity, experienced more and more difficulty with the valuesystem personified by the volva, in fact it provoked them and enraged them. Whereas women were the keepers of the old cult and spirituality, since it allowed them more power and freedom. 

It is tempting to read this conflict exclusively as "male" vs. "female" values, men vs. women, but if we do we're likely to miss the point. The heart of this conflict is the choice between staying in harmony with nature, or trying to conquer and dominate it. It was a vital choice then, it is a vital choice today, and it will show in our shamanic work.