I don’t believe in the runes, and have no faith in them. I know them. I do not worship Odhinn in conventional means I am evolving from and into him. I put to the test the runa which are already existing within and without.
“Know’st how to write, know’st how to read ,know’st how to stain, how to understand, know’st how to ask, know’st how to offer, know’st how to supplicate, know’st how to sacrifice?”
Personally, I can’t take a rune draw everyday. It seems to turn a wod-filled working into something profane for being profane. I respond to the sound of the norn wheels, when they have stopped turning and need to spin more thread, when the runes are :N:eeded to take weave again in my life, after the previous ones have taken their turns through the warp and woof. I turned out Mannaz last night, after an extended sessions of a self-style healing rite, I took my runes in their skin and inspirited them with moðr, with both eyes turned inwards, staring into the ginn. I poured them out before me and let my hand be guided, magnetically, to the right rune. This look at least 6 minutes. I made this set by hand, first finding the deer antlers, then cutting the tines, carving, shedding blood, and painting them with a woad colored paint. They are unique and speak a very subtle bio-language to me. So I let my choice be guided, instead of just ‘choosing a rune’, I tried to become vulnerable to let the rune choose me, I was merely the means of the ritual to take it up into the physical. Immediately after picking it up, eyes still in the dark, I could sense it was of the last two aetts, “a matter of men” it repeated to me “midgard, and the races of man”, I first took this to be something concerning everyday tradition. I held the tine, to my heart and the pace became faster, I could not feel the glyph risted into it, it appeared discordant though, like something was the wrong way it should be, it seemed almost alien. Then to my forehead, it seered into me, as a physical runeshape, and stayed in the space of my head. A set of runes kept blinking like a strobe, trying to distract me, yet in the shifting I could see one stave that seem to be formed by the fast moving lines of the others involved, like a zoetrope that forms a proper image at a high speed. I could see triangles, either facing inward or outward, like a mirror or bindrune.
I remember again, “of Midgard, of men” and then opened my eyes seeing, the inverted Mannaz rune. In this moment, everything had been confirmed, no trickery, or pseudo-magical acrobatics. The rune took form when I held it up to my head. It was inverted because with my eyes closed, images appear upside down to the sub-conscious. If they were open I would imagine it would have flipped the image, in the eye like it does for everything we see. The triangular-kaun mirror on two vertical staves, and there it stayed, embedding into the mind (minni) :M:, main, minni, :M: and moðr (mood) :M: I had read the rune before even having seen it, of all 24 in the row.
I am still interpreting it, but I have already felt it to be the man vs/ man. I work amongst them, and see to it that I outdo them by all means possible in my ability. Mannaz is Heimdall’s prototype, the very caliber and quality a human being, directly linked to the last two runes of the second aett I am working with Algiz and Sol, permitting no vice, no weakness or regression, only a firm countenance and testament of forthward evolution. It means culture to me, the cultivated reality of the tribe and most probably a sign of communion to come, and the sociability of each man who makes the movement. I take up my role, a Karl, my heiti, and hamr and wear it like a scyn, the word has power and it was… Mannaz.