I’m in the middle of a lot of conflict lately, stuff that wakes me up with headaches, makes me want to hide in my apartment all day, and drains me of all my energy. And it’s stupid, petty, personal stuff that no one could be sympathetic to. This morning I sat in the chair by the front windows, holding my coffee, staring out into the snowy street with an expression that made my wife ask, “You were on social media, weren’t you.”
Why are people so horrible? Why do they need to go out of their way to be such shits to each other? Why is never a sufficient policy to simply turn on your heel and walk away, if you think someone’s being dumb? The online comic Penny Arcade proposed the “Greater Internet Fuckwad” theory in 2004:
When people feel safe behind their screens, they will adopt the behavior of their avowed enemies and live up to the worst aspects of humanity, forgiving themselves because they believe their cause is just. Lots of that going around, everywhere, from all sides and for every reason.
But it gets exhausting after a while. After a while, “social media” becomes a contronym—the longer you stay there, the worse you feel about yourself and others and the greater the urge to leave. That’s the scaffolding around what I’ve been dealing with, so to protect myself I have to return to the fundamentals: hydrate, exercise, eat some vegetables, get enough sleep, pick up an actual book and fucking read it. Currently I’m enjoying Randall Munroe’s What If. The author/artist of the amazing xkcd takes on ridiculous science questions from his audience and answers them with earnest sincerity. It’s refreshing and educational.
I’ve drifted from my Scandi path, however. It’s not just a matter of not kneeling at the altar, it’s deeper than that. With the new year I overhauled the contents of this website, all the way down to the core tenets of Gýgratrú. With everything I’ve learned about giantesses in the last 20 months, I had to update my information. This revelation spurred further questions, however, and I spent a long, painful night examining everything I thought I believed and following these trails to their ends. I nearly took my website down because I don’t know what Gýgratrú has to offer that’s distinct from many other sources, merely adorned with the image of a giant woman. There has to be more.
After a long night of sleep and meditating on this, I realized there was more. There’s simply the point that every pagan, heathen, mystic, or witch makes when they realize there’s more to the world than can be dissected and quantified. You feel something more, you sense there’s more, but capital-s Science assures you there’s not. If it’s not reproducible in controlled circumstances, it doesn’t exist. That’s the case with the android Gray aliens using wormhole technology to dispatch Bigfoots in regions of power and low entropy: we all know it’s going on, we just haven’t proved it yet.
… Wait, what?
Maybe I’ll return to the altar, or maybe I’ll shape a new one. Maybe I’ll do away with it and simply slip out to the Giantess’s Glade and rest my palm upon the stone bowl for a minute, before anyone has time to call the cops. Maybe the lake will freeze over thickly enough for me to journey onto it. Maybe I’ll simply find a way to extend my roots into the earth from my apartment. Or maybe another answer is waiting for me, one that I can’t imagine.
In the meantime, I pulled out my runes.
I haven’t done this in forever. I wondered if they’d reject me, if they would degrade out of a resentful neglect. I probably need to touch them up with beeswax and jojoba oil, but they’re in good condition. Hmm, I could’ve sanctified them under the Wolf Moon, if I’d thought about it. Honestly, that one sneaked up on me and it was gone before I knew.
Tonight’s reading was interesting to me. Without framing a question, I drew Uruz for my present, Jera for my past, and Eihwaz for my future.
What this tells me, in short, is that if I don’t like the way things are, it’s my own damn fault.
Currently I’m in a situation where I have to be strong unto myself. I have to be sure of who I am, and I have to find the energy to enforce this upon the environment. I have to paint my name on a wall and be prepared to face who comes after me for that. What led me here was the concept of cycles and growth: I made who I am right now, and I set up the circumstances I find myself in. If I feel battered and bereft, I did it to myself.
Eihwaz represents death and transformation. Whatever happens is going to make me into something new that I haven’t imagined, and it will set me on a path I can’t see. At that time, of course, I will be ready to throw myself down it without hesitation. Right now I need to be strong, a little belligerent, and extremely independent. The giantess has not turned her hand from me, but she has receded into the stream, leaving nothing but her breath.
“I got you this far,” she whispers, “now show me I wasn’t mistaken.”