Monday, November 18, 2019

Naudiz Meditation

We talk a lot about “needing” things.

When I wrote my Wunjo post, I discussed finding happiness in a past time when my life was “close to the bone” of need. 

I sometimes feel like I “need” sentimental things I don’t. Last year, I more or less Swedish Death Cleaned my way into having all my stuff fit in one car for what may as well have been a cross-country move. I discovered over the course of 2019 that I can’t fit it all in there anymore, and I feel like I have too much stuff. It’s not that I like being mobile, hate stability, or even enjoy travel. It’s that life has unfortunately taught me that by being trusting, I tend to draw people who want to take advantage of that trust, and I tend to be as innocent as a nun at spotting that. It’s not even the classic “bad boyfriend” - it’s usually the relatives of whomever I date that wind up making my life a Helheim. I need to be able to pack my belongings in order to feel safe Not moving, in order to be able to have my resources in a place - my car - that I have sole control over.

But do any of us ever really have control? Even the ultra-wealthy who seem like they have all the security and control in the world would have reason to fear if all electronics were to one day fry. It’s why “prepping” is as much a trend for them as it is for the rural poor. The fear of needs we can’t meet, of loss of control of the ability to meet those needs, stalks us all like a predator in the night. Those wolves - and death itself - come for us all. With technology, the gap between rich and poor isn’t just monetarily greater. Many a wealthy child I know has no idea how to cook for themselves, feed themselves, without modern conveniences. Many a poor child also lacks this knowledge - but for once, this hypothetical scenario exposes our humanity. We would all have the same Need. 

In the end we all are vulnerable to hunger and illness. Some just live closer to those mortal vulnerabilities. Hunger and grief still feel like hunger and grief, no matter who you are, what culture you are from. We all get hungry. We all get ill. We all get thirsty, grieve, and die.

Human pain should bring us together, instead of driving us apart. Many try to insulate themselves from pain, from need, and no one likes that condition. It’s at the root of my own security seeking and fears as well. But it also lets us understand one another - though I am poor, and though I am mentally ill, I have never been an addict. My window into pain, into need, into fear, however, allows me to look at the times I’ve run from my problems, even overwhelming ones. I’ve ignored hunger before because of physical pain in my feet so great it made me avoid walking even for food. And through this window, I can see how an addict would avoid doing something they need to do out of avoiding another type of pain. It allows me compassion in a deeper sense, and lets me extend a hand where I would otherwise give up a “lost cause.” In some contexts, Need can teach us not to judge others so hastily. Even with all I’ve seen, and how jaded I have become in the last year, I still want to believe, to hope, that even those who have given up the fight can find it in themselves to stand once more, rallied by the crows that cry over those lost on the field, to find some spark. 

And that’s what naudiz is.
It’s not the torch of kenaz.

It’s the desperate hope of a spark between two rubbed sticks.

Of one last chance to live, to survive the winter, see summer, get another chance, and do things right this time. Do things better. 

But as with any fight with the elements and with cold, there is one absolutely necessary factor:

“I know you are in pain. In need.
Keep. Moving.”

Do not give up the fight.