MAN RARELY places a proper valuation upon his womankind, at least not until deprived of them. He has no conception of the subtle atmosphere exhaled by the sex feminine, so long as he bathes in it; but let it be withdrawn, and an ever-growing void begins to manifest itself in his existence, and he becomes hungry, in a vague sort of way, for a something so indefinite that he cannot characterize it. If his comrades have no more experience than himself, they will shake their heads dubiously and dose him with strong physic. But the hunger will continue and become stronger; he will lose interest in the things of his everyday life and wax morbid; and one day, when the emptiness has become unbearable, a revelation will dawn upon him.
This revelation my friends, is one that has been a blooming seed, a fermenting loaf, and ripening fruit of solar fire that is becoming a new internal locus of mine. A grand importance. One that is not sudden and abstract, but like the fermented goods which needs a starter culture, and time to live freely at first, or the completeness of a single Yew tree which started with one rotting berry on the ground releasing its seed. It is the story of the fool who follows innocently and passionately on a blind trail, until he maps out the territory in which he finds himself in and begins to judge to correct place to build his home, in his true kingly habitat. Well, besides the metaphors, Jack London spoke this (probably out loud before he wrote it), as the first passage of Son of the Wolf, a seminal meditation on Nordic frontier living, hardship, rite of passage, manhood, and mans relation to the woman. Several of my ‘tribe’, my brothers are older than me, and have come to these same revelations right around this time in their life or even earlier, when there was no substitute for sating the hunger of finding the archetypal sex feminine, to help him become the holistic man he is destined to be, and thus help her become empowered in her own womanly role. Not travel, power, wealth, business, drug, or casual romance can supplant the morbidity that London describes, and it is at this time, usually a man in his mid-late twenties in this western and European society at least that he then settles to find good land, and seeks out his queen to build a thriving family clan unit.
And this is exactly where I find myself, drawing on a nomadic transient existence for just shy of five years, as a wanderer, lover, warrior, magician in the world. I have embraced these archetypes as I have learned their lessons and moved through them. The icelandic term :eigi einhamr: applies here, not of one skin. These were the required prerequisites for coming to the mountain which I look up now, the one that entails a hard and steady climb to becoming autonomous, building a family, packaged with all the mating and dating rituals, and ceremonies that come with it. Seeking a few acres to tend, to turn my external locus of gratification and knowledge pursuit from the novel world of change, wanderlust and abandon to one internally focused on nurture, settlement, and a conviction for life that allows the hard work to purvey itself to the coupling seekers. In simple english: To earn land, woo a woman with similar dreams, persona, beliefs, and attractive force, decide to go steady, marry in a traditional sense, to mate and create the family thereafter; romance, children, mutual friending, the growth from the soil, life plans, investments to spirit, these come naturally from the natural selection of HER.
Who is Her? Well, I mean the woman of Frigga, the one who is my reflection, as the title eludes, the nourisher, nurturer, one who can bear daughter and son, she is no longer a maiden but a wife, goddess of love, crafter, kitchen witch, healer. The woman who can match her man who is a provider, hard worker, one who can fight to protect what he owns and what he loves, the primal archetype of manliness, not only a good man, but being good at being a man. This is the distilled essence of what I seek out in a partner, and it is at this time that the ground is being cleared for such a union to take place. Rather than to shamelessly put myself out in a compromised way, and simply settle for less, for temporary love, it is here where the journal of my life is shared that I make it known. To come to conviction of this truth is one thing, to openly waylay it for those to see is another, and needs an intimate and empathic understanding of the nature of why I write this, and the what for?
“The psyches and souls of women also have their own cycles and seasons of doing and solitude, running and staying, being involved and being removed, questing and resting, creating and incubating, being of the world and returning to the soul-place.”
:Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Women Who Run With the Wolves: Myths and Stories of the Wild Woman Archetype
We are spun in a locus of cycles, like the plant, or the crystal deposit, a mare and its calfs, a generation, a species. The individual human must become conscious of this and know when it is Time. When is the right timing for being alone, for being with others, for being with the other on their own, and being in the world completely. The wife-finding time is part of the quest, so is the child-rearing time, and land-tending time, and the time to settle, all seasonal aspects of thriving existence. Now is my time, and something I have been sensitive to for awhile now, while I carefully surveyed the scene and asked myself the questions of when, what for and how. We can not expect to find our life partners just waiting around for us to bump into them in our own city or some chance encounter online. I think this is unrealistic and counter-intuitive to think our own true soul mate is walking around somewhere on this planet of eight billion. Instead I believe one should seek someone appropriate, but not look too hard, and cultivate the passion and bonds within that connection. In traditional times and still in many less modern societies, the idea of marriage was a more practical pairing, and was based on what the two could offer each other, whether in terms of skills, land, animals, family lineage connections (inlaws), exclusive sex, children, etc. The modern dating culture is primarily based on surface appearance rather than deep substance. I want a highly attractive partner, but this is definitely not a qualifier on its own. I have my own persona, power, skills, experiences, history, that would need to match, and the metaphysical aspects of belief, ideas, life stage, sustainability.
It means commitment to the bad weather, and passing the stages of euphoric bliss that entail the first encounters. I think of love as worship, to look into your significant others’ eyes and see a world of potential, happiness, experience, and providence. As a male moving strongly into my provider, primal masculine, protector role, what I need from the embodied female is the nurturer, mother, home keeper, dedicated, with her heart in the right place.