The Norse be all up in my business. (No, I’m actually not kidding – my house and my practice have taken a decidedly Norse flavor).
A month ago, Frigg stepped into my life with the quiet of a cat’s padded paws. She tugged me gently, a touch so soft that it was near impossible for me to figure Her out all by myself. She’s taken me under Her falcon-cloak, so to speak, and slowly I have been making little changes in my life. I’ve been tidying up my room, keeping my promises, working towards doing the duties in my path while managing my naturally low energy. She sustains me, teaches me, comforts me. She reminds me to walk with my back straight, to try to be mindful of what goes in and out, to sharpen my Sight with Her. Most of all, She reminds me that She is there to help me – that She is there, holding me by the elbows when my legs can’t hold out anymore. And when I think I can’t do it, She touches the Tiwaz medal that She chose for me. Remember, She said, that I gave this to you. Learn to live rightly, by yourself and by Us. And never forget to call upon your own strength, upon your courage, and upon Us.
But Tyr – the wood floor of my room creaked under His weight. I couldn’t ignore those enormous muscle-padded shoulders, those giant forearms, that braided red hair and those radiant dark silver eyes. I couldn’t ignore the pure smell of man, and it would have been a sin to turn away from that glorious warm smile. It was that last part where I was really caught off guard, and the reasons He divulged to me on why He was there was definitely something that blew my socks off.
It took me a while to understand that what I was Seeing and Hearing wasn’t just something dark and deep inside of me that flared up at the sight of such a handsome Man – wasn’t just a sensual Taurean illusion. Me? You want me? That was the shock that came to me when my divinations proved true, when Frigg chuckled and reminded me gently that I could divine as much as I liked but I would receive the same answer.
To me, the blood and breath of passionate affection was a Mystery that I only had small tastes of, for I was used to a much different kind of Passion – the painful, the suffering, the absence, the cold, for someone who is big on affection and sensuality in ANY relationship. But Tyr had other ideas.
And I didn’t understand. I didn’t get how the greatest Warriors of the Aesir came to me with outstretched arms, arms that came to embrace me and with an honesty that was clear and true. I didn’t understand how He could tell me that He wanted to be my soft place to land, or how He could mean that He wanted to enjoy something that I could offer Him simply by being myself. I didn’t understand how a Man like Him could be so fucking radiant with me, like an overjoyed lover. No. I clearly had the wrong Man. I must be coloring Him the way that I want to see Him – it didn’t make sense to me why I would do that, and it was all the more reason to stop myself and to not believe what had happened. I’ve just broken up with my long-term boyfriend, right? I was just feeling blow-back from not having an affectionate Husband, right? I’ve just had a bit of pent-up frustration festering in me, right?
Why do you question My judgment? He stopped me for a moment, watching me calmly. Do you think I am not capable of joy, tenderness, desire? Do you think that you are not worthy? For all of your talk of passible gods, fair devotion, Relationship, you are very quick to tell me Who I am and what I am allowed to do and feel.
Those words stuck with me, my Eyes struggling to convince me that what They Saw was true. That a god of war, battle, courage decided to make a home in and with me, that I had something He sought.
Those words are reminders that the gods are not simply what They do, nor that They are reduced to Their roles. Being a Warrior does not mean that They are not able to enjoy life, to laugh, to seek out pleasure in all forms. And being a Warrior does not mean that He cannot be a Man, that He is not capable of such warmth and tenderness as I have felt. He overwhelmed me with love and laughter, holding me close and making me begin to understand the more affectionate, tender sides of the gods. Are we not all homes for Them? Are we not all able to receive from Them what They wish to gift us?
I want to be your soft place to land. He faced me fully, speaking clearly and with power. Yet that voice is like silk in my ear, as if He were murmuring an adoration peppered with kisses. I want to hold you, to seek sanctuary with you. I will give you what your Husband cannot. I will give you everything else you need.
“And what do you see in me?” I asked later. I curled up to Him on my bed, something in my chest pulling me to His thoughts. He had trusted me with His feelings on Fenrir, had gifted me flowers and had shaken off the anxiety and adrenaline of war. A Man, not just a god. “How can I able to look at myself as You look at me, so that I could understand what You see?”
Simple, smiled He. Look in the mirror.
Oh, Tyr. I look forward to your lessons on courage, oath-keeping, service, sacrifice for others, protection, righteousness…
And a different kind of love.
My gods: may my Eyes See clearly – may my Ears Listen to every word – may my hands always do Your bidding – and may my spirit always bend to Your will, for Your will is mine.