Runecasting with the Giantess

Gebo is the 7th rune in the Elder Futhark. Its reconstructed Proto-Germanic name is gebō, "gift." In Old English this was gyfu, in Old Norse gjöf. It represents the /g/ phoneme, as in "gift." This does not resemble the ᚷ-rune of the Etruscan alphabet, where it had an /s/ sound. Scholar J.H. Looijenga supposes it therefore derives from the Latin X which may have sounded similar to the Germanic /g/ in the first century. And yet Gebo does not appear in the Norwegian or Icelandic rune-poems. Why the omission? The Norwegian and Icelandic rune-poems do not use the Elder Futhark: they use the Younger Futhark, which only has 16 runes. Some sounds were dropped due to regional dialects not using such sounds, or certain sounds were close enough to others that they were dropped. It's one thing to consider an alphabet where G may be redundant; it's something else to imagine the loss of the "gift" from the register of symbols.

Norwegian and Icelandic notwistanding, Gebo still finds a place in the Old English rune-poem, and I've included the Anglo-Saxon version because it was available and to fill up space. The poem praises generosity and the act of giving. This is an admirable trait with only positive qualities: it benefits the giver, establishing them as a noble and honorable soul; it benefits the recipient, who might only rely on the kindness of others in a barren and inhospitable environment. The person who realizes they have enough, and thus enough to share, is a pillar in an unstable community. Such a figure is a beam of hope, supporting others, making life easier for some and lifting others from destitution and wretchedness. The Old English version emphasizes how even the lowest of us still deserve basic human consideration. We are not forces of nature, we are not mindless and neutral tidal waves or tornadoes or volcanoes, are we? We're perceptive, thinking, feeling people, and this is shown in leveling the playing field a bit, giving to those who have nothing.

By extension, Gebo also represents relationships and partnership. A bond with another person is a sacred thing, an arrangement of exchange and esteem. Even one's connection with a divinity falls into this realm: to give of oneself is perhaps a statement of individuality. An artist, offering their best work, asserts to the divinity who they are and what makes them different from all others in creation. They offer their heart in noble pursuits, they show their dedication and passion for their deity and their cause. The same with mortal relationships, whether friendships, alliances, or marraige. When you hold someone else in esteem and give of yourself to them, you're also saying that what you have to offer has worth, is worthy of someone you look up to. To have someone else that gives you reason to feel this way, someone who opens your eyes to your own worth, is a wonderful experience—that is also a gift.

The Anglo-Saxon rune-poem speaks to generosity, honor, and mutual support. The mutuality, the exchange, is crucial: to endlessly give and give without getting anything back is draining, exhausting, and potentially toxic. It can create bitterness in our souls, a deep resentment that colors the world around us and makes us feel less generous. It can corrupt the gift-giving process, if one chooses to martyr oneself to thankless people, making a demonstration of boundless generosity at great personal cost. The point of that is no longer about giving and generosity, and it becomes a sickness. Therefore, there are two important considerations in giving: determining what in yourself has worth to offer, and knowing who is worthy of receiving it. You have to know yourself, and you have to know who you're dealing with. Giving explicitly with the intent to receive something is not generosity; neither is imposing your gifts where they're not wanted. Debt and obligation are gifts that nobody wishes to receive.

Despite, you have to feel you're getting something back, whether that's honor from your community, the love of someone who appreciates your contribution, or just the warmth of knowing you've improved someone else's condition. You have to honor yourself by giving your gifts where they'll do the most good, for you and for the recipient. Use Gebo to encourage a balanced relationship, an open exchange between two people, a fair business deal, or even to signify to your deity that you are invoking generosity and inviting reciprocity.

Keywords: Gebo, gifts, generosity, giving, honor, reciprocity