The Twists and Turns of Wyrd

Time is like a moebic spiral wherein the past is the central spindle around which the present and present-future wrap in an outward motion around and about, with the future raising higher and returning to center again to start a new round. Imagine a spiral staircase, a rope-ladder cat's cradle macrameing up a tree house, with new wraps and tangles each turn. Each wrap creates a new and unique weave that replicates patterns of lower weaves but in unique fractal waves as change kaleidoscopes the basic knot-weaves. The turn of the spindle is not regular but turbulent, and happens as event-happenings accumulate to a wave that crashes and turns the loop once more.

When that turn happens, everything that one was used to begins to change, and the only way to preserve everything is to let go of the previous stories and find a way to go with the flow of the new turn and cat's cradle move with the new weaves in motion, having faith that if you cleave to the center, which is the eternal existence of the past ever becoming itself through change that weaves into itself reflexively (wyrd), in your heart, that the essence of old patterns will be fractally and creatively renewed in new iterations and twists in the weaves of the coming turn.

When the turn happens, the old options on the menu are no longer available, even though many of the same ingredients are. The deck has been slightly reshuffled, the dice rethrown. Some of the ingredients drop out while new ones enter in and make their way into the material flow and structure of the turn : each age has its own texture. An act of imagination is required that reaches forward into the unknown of the new turn, feeling out the changes even now undoing much of what one has gotten used to, and with an act of good faith projecting new possibilities from what has been grasped in the feeling-out. This act is a recognition of the changes and a faith that that which is beloved will reconstitute its essential pattern but in new ways, weaves, and manifestations. If one rejects the new manifestations, one will be carried along by the wave anyway, but looking down and backwards into an emptiness no longer there while the future carries forth those possibilities bred into and seeded from the eternal past preserving itself in its changes. If you fail in this act of imagination, you begin to lose chances in the spin, neglecting opportunities while living your mourning. Mourn to live, do not live to mourn! Loss of particulars is repaid with preservation of essentials.

When the wheel turns, and you are asked, "What do you want?", do not answer, however tempting in the fog of unknowing and despair, "Nothing, for all is now vain." Mourn, and look around. In the changes are new potentials, opportunities for your fulfillment in unrecognized (weird) ways. In that you must have faith.

You see, we are all vikings sailing into uncharted waters. We have no choice. The only choice we have is the boldness with which we go into that unknown. The viking is but the quintessential enactment, the ritual pinnacle, of acts we all must take, blessed by the doom of Wyrd. There is peril to the turning, there is loss, there are strange, new sights foreign to eyes which love home, but in loving home, do not be such a homebody (heimsk : "fool") that you lose sight of the majesties and beauties unfolding before your eyes, for in change, the exotic weaves into the fabric of your very favorite essence, in a movement of enrichment if you are savvy enough to recognize it and welcome the new guests with proper hospitality. It is a difficult, courageous move, and many lose it, living to mourn. Mourn to live and give forth to the Gods and the Norns the essence of those patterns beloved to you which you would love to see woven in new tangle in the coming turn that will have its way.