Why I Love Baldur

I love Baldur because he never believed in all the pain this age considers "necessary" and "inevitable", and in his age, he made sure it wasn't. Loki thought it was, and out of spite, brought all this about, and has become the god of this age. Oh, he's charming, all right, and fun in his own way, if setting fire to a neighbor's house is your idea of fun, and sociopathy at every level with the extinction of empathy and delight in schadenfreude is your wish for the world. Baldur believed in the deep snow within each being, that cool, regenerate place of innocence, and that the world, for all its roughness, could evolve and unfold in greater and greater expression of that original potential found in the human child held in one's arms. The world's roughness could become a wonderfully wild womb in which delicate and beautiful things could find their own. Was Loki jealous of all those dreams Baldur spoke of? If you doubt and degrade enough, you create the reality affirmed by your doubting, and then assert the world was always that way. What need for moral degeneration and nastier getting nastier until Baldur's children are the ones most difficult to get through this world, and the world, possessed by Loki, declares they ought to go to Hel just as he was sent. A world out of tune with Baldur's dreams, unable to hold that idealism, refusing the chivalry of heartful principles, is too bankrupt to declare itself "realistic". Its realism is nothing but acquiescence to corrosion. Why should I believe that? Why should I love that? Those who call Baldur "milquetoast" are both ignorant and short-sighted. His name means "bold", a reminder it takes not weakness but chutzpah to envision a world beyond cynicism. His days have so long past his great chivalrous deeds have almost been forgotten, when he and his Gemini twin would sail the skies as Sol's escort, alighting upon any region where they saw trouble or oppression, and rescued those in trouble. "Saviours", they were called, in the long ages before anyone had ever heard of the Nazarene. And he was not alone, for he married "Nanna", whose name means "daring", and she was the valkyrie who defended the moon and all the lovely moon nymphs and disir from wolves and trouble. They were the brightest, the boldest, the strongest, and the most inspirational of their days, and we have come so far down the devolution ladder that we cannot even see their glory. Those who love Baldur (and Nanna) hate cruelty, and the suppression of inner strength and beauty, and all who would try to crush the dreamers and bright lights. Note how prevalent the theme of the giants sending wolves after the Sun and Moon, the bright lights, so as to snuff them out. Baldur, his brother Hodur, and Nanna were the warriors there to ensure those bright lights were always protected, as they ought be. When they were sent Helward, the world became a more insecure place. Sol still makes her beautiful pageant each day, as does Mani, but we are never certain they will stay ahead of the wolves. So it is in our hearts and our societies, where the bright lights are often but one step ahead of the wolves, if not being rended in their greedy mouths. This is not worthy of us. This is not worthy of Baldur. Rise up from your cynicism, and make encounter with the Worthiest God and Goddess of all.