Build It and They Will Come

Those following the Odinic faith place themselves in a particularly interesting position. There is a lineage to this religion which can be traced historically and mythologically to pre-historical Hyperborean times. In the English-speaking world, the gods are immortalised in our days of the week, and the basis of numerous customs survive and thrive such as Yule and Ostara/Eostre. Yet despite this, relatively few folk adhere to the faith of our ancestors. And what is more, attempting to find others who walk this path in the real world can prove difficult.

There are many reasons for this, of course: rampant materialism, science replacing religion as a belief system, the woke agenda, media-led fashion and so forth. Odinists are not the only ones who struggle, however. In England the curches are deserted, aside from such occasions as funerals and weddings, and those who do attend on a Sunday are generally elderly.

But I urge the reader against over-analysing our present situation. I would prefer to keep things simple.

I believe man is better off with a belief in a higher power rather than holding an atheist perspective. Indeed, during the recent turmoil over lockdowns and freedom protests, it tended to be those who held to a faith who were more switched on to the dangers of globalism, cultural Marxism, the techno-scientific cult and transhumanism in particular.

Man is not simply a lump of flesh and bone; he is animated by something more, and it is this that stirs within us when danger arises in the form of an agenda which threatens our very soul.

The main problem in debating faith in this modern world is that we tend to look at the spiritual through intellectual eyes rather than viewing religion as something experiential.

Once we begin to realise that there is ‘something more’, it is then that we are faced with the dilema of which path to follow through the deep, dark wood. There are many paths, and many lead to a similar understanding of divine truth, yet the one which seemed clearest to me was the path of my ancestors.

Before a debate ensues as to which religion is best for Western man, we must first confront our biggest enemy. This enemy has both brought down entire civilisations and destroyed the smallest of groups. It is the scourge of our age. Indeed, this enemy has likely posed problems in all ages past, present and future.

The enemy is us.

No external foe has even come close to the destructive power of infighting, splitting and arguing, which brings down all that is noble. Certainly, external enemies fan the flames of discontent, but it is each of us, as individuals, that have to honestly look within and root out that which may destroy the things we have built and the things we love.

This is why all spiritual leaders from many differing traditions place the emphasis on the individual to first change himself.

This is a process, and takes time, but the old nationalist slogan ‘No More Brother Wars!’ has to apply first to our family, friends and comrades and then to community and folk.

Then, when one’s mindset is right and the ego is in check, it may be time to begin building a Hearth.

A Hearth, so named to reflect that most heartwarming spiritual centre of the home, can begin with one’s family unit. Then eyes can be cast outwards for tried and trusted individuals who are willing to meet, hold blot, perform rituals and aid one another, as collectively we ride the tiger of modernity and drive the New Awakening.

I recall my own early days as a lone practicioner of Odinism. I held ceremonies which were deep enough to give me a sense of wonder and profound enough to re-connect me with the cycles of the seasons and the gods of my ancestors.

The calling to this path was via nature; youthful camping trips, mountain climbing and generally a passion for simply being outdoors were the building blocks of a faith I had yet to become aware of. And as the years went by and my spirituality deepened, a desire to expand and share this knowledge grew stronger.

From holding blot alone to meeting others to building a Hearth of good folk took two decades and counting. As the seasons cycled, folk came and went, yet some stayed and these folk form the beginnings of a new era of Odinism.

Providing intentions are true and one never wavers from the glorious goal. The adage ‘Build it and They Will Come’ is as true today as it has ever been.

You see, folk do crave that ‘something more’ but they are so sick of being lied to, their capacity for trust has left them.

Folk do not want wishy-washy words and limp-wristedness. It scares them. They crave solid leadership and a message of valour and glory, yet they have had to seek these things in the world of fantasy fiction and film. And now, in this woke age, even fantasy fiction and film has failed them.

Recognise that the modern Odinist is not a re-enactor nor is he a LARPer. The vikings did not dress up as cavemen; thus we should not dress as vikings. Their time has passed.

What is more, the viking age was not a Golden Age. It was an era where materialism abounded and the rot began to set in to a faith which goes back to the dawn of our folk.

Yet the lineage continues and he who sets foot on the woodland path with a feeling, an inkling, a shimmer of vibrational thought that there is something more than this material world and that our eternal Myth holds within it something that speaks to the deepest aspect of our self, will perhaps begin the journey of Odinic discovery and start the epic quest of building a Hearth of steadfast kinsmen, noble friends and comrades.

Waes Hael